Do you know him at all?"
"I've met him--once," Dick said. "Went to him for advice--on a matter of
business."
"Any good?" asked Ashcott.
"Oh yes, shrewd enough. Hardest-headed man at the Bar, I believe.
I didn't know he was a director of this show. They won't get much
out of him."
"I fancy they're going to ask you to draw up a petition," said Ashcott.
"Me!" Dick turned on him in a sudden blaze of anger. "I'll see 'em damned
first!" he said.
Ashcott shrugged his shoulders. "It's your affair. You're the only man
who has any influence with 'em. I'm sick of trying to keep the peace."
Dick checked his indignation. "Poor devils! They certainly have some
cause for grievance, but I'm not going to draw up their ultimatum for
them. I've no objection to speaking to Yardley or any other man on their
behalf, but I'm hanged if I'll be regarded as their representative.
They'll make a strike-leader of me next."
"Well, they're simmering," Ashcott said, as he prepared to depart.
"They'll boil over before long. If they don't find a responsible
representative they'll probably run amuck and get up to mischief."
"Oh, man, stop croaking!" Dick said with weary irritation and went away
down the hill.
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