"All
I'm doing, Bellas, is following orders. Any man who feels that he was
justified in being away, and that he ought to be kept on the pay rolls
here, may make his appeal to Mr. Hawkins, Mr. Hazelton or Mr. Reade."
"I'll see Reade!" announced Bellas stiffly. "That youngster is doing
all the dirty work here. I'll go to him straight."
"I'll take you over to his office," nodded Foreman Payson.
"I'm going, too," announced another workman.
"So'm I," added another.
"One at a time, men," advised Payson. "I think Bellas feels that he's
capable of talking for all of you."
The other foremen restrained the crowd, while Mr. Payson led Bellas over
to the headquarters shack.
Tom looked up from a handful of old letters as the two men entered.
"See here, you!" was Bellas's form of greeting.
"Try it again," smiled Tom pleasantly.
"You're the man I want to talk to," Bellas snarled. "What do you mean
by--"
"What's your name?" asked Reade quickly.
"None of your--"
"We can never do business on that kind of courtesy," smiled Reade.
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