Chapter XI. The New Manager - Page 2

his father with a keen look at him, "I think I may return the compliment."

"Well, yes, but perhaps I should not bother you. You have all you can carry."

"All I can carry," echoed Maitland, picking up the reports from his desk and handing them to his son, who glanced over them. "Things are not going well at the mills. No, you needn't tell me. You know I never ask you for any confidences about your brother unionists."

"Right you are, Dad. You have always played the game."

"Well, I must confess this is beyond me. Everywhere on the men's faces I catch that beastly look of distrust and suspicion. I hate to work with men like that. And very obviously, trouble is brewing, but what it is, frankly, it is beyond me to know."

"Well, it is hardly a secret any longer," said Jack. "Trouble is coming, Dad, though what form it shall take I am not in a position to say. Union discipline is a fierce thing. The rank and file are not taken into the confidence of the leaders. Policies are decided upon in the secret councils of the Great Ones and handed down to us to adopt. Of course, it is open to any man to criticise, and I am bound to say that the rankers exercise that privilege with considerable zest. All the same, however, it is difficult to overturn an administration, hard to upset established order. The thing that is, is the thing that ought to be. Rejection of an administration policy demands revolution."

"Well," said his father, taking the sheets from Jack's hand, "we needn't go to meet the trouble. Now, let us have yours. What is your particular grief?"

"Tony," said Jack shortly.

"Tony?" echoed his father in dismay. "Heaven help us! And what now has come to Tony? Though I must confess I have been expecting this for some time. It had to come."

"It is a long story, Dad, and I shan't worry you with the details. As you know, after leaving us, Tony went from one job to another with the curve steadily downwards. For the last few months, I gather, he has been living on his wits, helped out by generous contributions from his sister's wages. Finally he was given a subordinate position under "The Great War Veterans" who have really been very decent to him. This position involved the handling of funds--no great amount. Then it was the old story--gambling and drinking--the loss of all control--desperate straits--hoping to recoup his losses--and you know the rest."

"Embezzlement?" asked Maitland.

"Yes, embezzlement," said Jack. "Tony is not a thief. He didn't deliberately steal, you understand."

"Jack," said his father, sharply, "get that out of your head. There is no such distinction in law or in fact. Stealing is stealing, whatever the motive