Part 35 (1/2)

Nimrod now began to crawl about the house, snarling and grumbling at everyone.

'Now then, you chaps. Rouse yourselves!' he bellowed, 'you seem to think this is a 'orspital. If some of you don't make a better show than this, I'll 'ave to 'ave a Alteration! There's plenty of chaps walkin' about doin' nothin' who'll be only too glad of a job!'

He went into the scullery, where Cra.s.s was mixing some colour.

'Look 'ere, Cra.s.s!' he said. 'I'm not at all satisfied with the way you're gettin' on with the work. You must push the chaps a bit more than you're doin'. There's not enough being done, by a long way. We shall lose money over this job before we're finished!'

Cra.s.s--whose fat face had turned a ghastly green with fright--mumbled something about getting on with it as fast as he could.

'Well, you'll 'ave to make 'em move a bit quicker than this!' Misery howled, 'or there'll 'ave to be a ALTERATION!'

By an 'alteration' Cra.s.s understood that he might get the sack, or that someone else might be put in charge of the job, and that would of course reduce him to the ranks and do away with his chance of being kept on longer than the others. He determined to try to ingratiate himself with Hunter and appease his wrath by sacrificing someone else.

He glanced cautiously into the kitchen and up the pa.s.sage and then, lowering his voice, he said:

'They all shapes pretty well, except Newman. I would 'ave told you about 'im before, but I thought I'd give 'im a fair chance. I've spoke to 'im several times myself about not doin' enough, but it don't seem to make no difference.'

'I've 'ad me eye on 'im meself for some time,' replied Nimrod in the same tone. 'Anybody would think the work was goin' to be sent to a Exhibition, the way 'e messes about with it, rubbing it with gla.s.spaper and stopping up every little crack! I can't understand where 'e gets all the gla.s.spaper FROM.'

''E brings it 'isself!' said Cra.s.s hoa.r.s.ely. 'I know for a fact that 'e bought two 'a'penny sheets of it, last week out of 'is own money!'

'Oh, 'e did, did 'e?' snarled Misery. 'I'll give 'im gla.s.spaper! I'll 'ave a Alteration!'

He went into the hall, where he remained alone for a considerable time, brooding. At last, with the manner of one who has resolved on a certain course of action, he turned and entered the room where Philpot and Harlow were working.

'You both get sevenpence an hour, don't you?' he said.

They both replied to the affirmative.

'I've never worked under price yet,' added Harlow.

'Nor me neither,' observed Philpot.

'Well, of course you can please yourselves,' Hunter continued, 'but after this week we've decided not to pay more than six and a half.

Things is cut so fine nowadays that we can't afford to go on payin'

sevenpence any longer. You can work up till tomorrow night on the old terms, but if you're not willin' to accept six and a half you needn't come on Sat.u.r.day morning. Please yourselves. Take it or leave it.'

Harlow and Philpot were both too much astonished to say anything in reply to this cheerful announcement, and Hunter, with the final remark, 'You can think it over,' left them and went to deliver the same ultimatum to all the other full-price men, who took it in the same way as Philpot and Harlow had done. Cra.s.s and Owen were the only two whose wages were not reduced.

It will be remembered that Newman was one of those who were already working for the reduced rate. Misery found him alone in one of the upper rooms, to which he was giving the final coat. He was at his old tricks. The woodwork of the cupboard be was doing was in a rather damaged condition, and he was facing up the dents with white-lead putty before painting it. He knew quite well that Hunter objected to any but very large holes or cracks being stopped, and yet somehow or other he could not scamp the work to the extent that he was ordered to; and so, almost by stealth, he was in the habit of doing it--not properly but as well as he dared. He even went to the length of occasionally buying a few sheets of gla.s.spaper with his own money, as Cra.s.s had told Hunter.

When the latter came into the room he stood with a sneer on his face, watching Newman for about five minutes before he spoke. The workman became very nervous and awkward under this scrutiny.

'You can make out yer time-sheet and come to the office for yer money at five o'clock,' said Nimrod at last. 'We shan't require your valuable services no more after tonight.'

Newman went white.

'Why, what's wrong?' said he. 'What have I done?'

'Oh, it's not wot you've DONE,' replied Misery. 'It's wot you've not done. That's wot's wrong! You've not done enough, that's all!' And without further parley he turned and went out.

Newman stood in the darkening room feeling as if his heart had turned to lead. There rose before his mind the picture of his home and family. He could see them as they were at this very moment, the wife probably just beginning to prepare the evening meal, and the children setting the cups and saucers and other things on the kitchen table--a noisy work, enlivened with many a frolic and childish dispute. Even the two-year-old baby insisted on helping, although she always put everything in the wrong place and made all sorts of funny mistakes.