“It wouldn’t be a bad time for that workman to strike,” returned Richard with a laugh.

“He could dictate his own terms,” returned Mr. Slocum, soberly.  “Well, I suppose you cannot help thinking about Margaret; but don’t think of her now.  Tell me what answer you propose to give the Association,—­how you mean to put it; for I leave the matter wholly to you.  I shall have no hand in it, further than to indorse your action.”

“To-morrow, then,” said Richard, “for it is no use to hurry up a crisis, I shall go to the workshops and inform them that their request for short hours on Saturdays is granted, but that the other changes they suggest are not to be considered.  There will never be a better opportunity, Mr. Slocum, to settle another question which has been allowed to run too long.”

“What’s that?”

“The apprentice question.”

“Would it be wise to touch on that at present?”

“While we are straightening out matters and putting things on a solid basis, it seems to me essential to settle that.  There was never a greater imposition, or one more short-sighted, than this rule which prevents the training of sufficient workmen.  The trades-union will discover their error some day when they have succeeded in forcing manufacturers to import skilled labor by the wholesale.  I would like to tell the Marble Workers’ Association that Slocum’s Yard has resolved to employ as many apprentices each year as there is room for.”

“I wouldn’t dare risk it!”

“It will have to be done, sooner or later.  It would be a capital flank movement now.  They have laid themselves open to an attack on that quarter.”

“I might as well close the gates for good and all.”

“So you will, if it comes to that.  You can afford to close the gates, and they can’t afford to have you.  In a week they’d be back, asking you to open them.  Then you could have your pick of the live hands, and drop the dead wood.  If Giles or Peterson or Lumley or any of those desert us, they are not to be let on again.  I hope you will promise me that, sir.”

“If the occasion offers, you shall reorganize the shops in your own way.  I haven’t the nerve for this kind of business, though I have seen a great deal of it in the villages, first and last.  Strikes are terrible mistakes.  Even when they succeed, what pays for the lost time and the money squandered over the tavern-bar?  What makes up for the days or weeks when the fire was out on the hearth and the children had no bread?  That is what happens, you know.”

“There is no remedy for such calamities,” Richard answered.  “Yet I can imagine occasions when it would be better to let the fire go out and the children want for bread.”

“You are not advocating strikes!” exclaimed Mr. Slocum.

“Why not?”

“I thought you were for fighting them.”