El Diablo Part 12

"Why not?"

d.i.c.kie knew the question was coming and was already prepared to give her reasons.

"When a man works for you," she explained, "he wants his money every Sat.u.r.day night. He's earned it and he should have it. He may leave the minute it's in his fingers and hit the grit again. But he's worked a week at least and that's something. If he thinks you're holding out on him to get him to stick, he wouldn't even start."

"That is what McCoy said. But you are both wrong. The men I am figuring on hiring will stick. That is why I am hiring them."

"Don't think much of a bunch like that," d.i.c.kie commented. "A man that can't get a job to-day is a b.u.m. And the fellow doesn't live that ever gets through knocking around. That is if he's a real man."

"You're wrong again," Gregory contradicted. "They are eighteen-carat men. I've tried them out already. I know."

"Where?"

"In France."

"You mean soldiers?"

"Yes. I called up a friend of mine last night in Port Angeles. He used to be first lieutenant in my company. He's a reporter on _The Times_ now. Hawkins told me a lot of the boys were out of work and he promised to look up a number of addresses of men in my old outfit. To-morrow I'm going to the city to round them up. They've stood by me before in many a tight place. It cost them a lot sometimes. But they stuck just the same.

Now I've got a chance to stick by them. And I'm going to do it because I know they'll come up to the scratch."

The girl was impressed by the earnestness of his words. He meant well of course. It was a splendid idea but----

She voiced her objections. "You'll find business is a different game from war."

"Perhaps. But in both there is hard fighting. And when you are going into a sc.r.a.p with all you've got, you want men behind you you can bank on."

"I wouldn't bank on them too strong. A lot of the ones I've seen think they're too good to work at an ordinary job. They have an idea the war has made them worth a lot more money than they really are. They like to tell what great things they've done. But when it comes to----"

"I've seen that kind, too. On both sides of the water. Over there no one depended on them. They were shunted from pillar to post until they hit a place where they couldn't even hear the guns. When the war was over they came back. They were whole. And they talked."

He paused for a moment and looked down at the deck. Then he went on in a low voice: "The kind I'm figuring on are not whole. And they don't talk."

d.i.c.kie Lang said no more. When a man spoke with such depth of feeling, what was the use of trying to talk him out of it. Of course he was wrong. But he'd just have to find it out for himself. In silence they neared the entrance to the bay and threaded their way among the fis.h.i.+ng-boats as they drew up to the Lang wharf. Gregory roused himself at the sight of the Lang dock and turned to the girl.

"You took me out this morning," he said, "to show me you knew your business. Now it's up to me to show you I know mine. I'm going right to work. I expect a hard fight, but I'll tell you right now this idea of mine is going to win out."

d.i.c.kie smiled as they drew alongside the dock.

"Go to it," she said. "I won't say you're wrong. But you'll certainly have to show me."

CHAPTER VIII

A DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

"What do you expect me to do with a bunch of cripples like that?"

Jack McCoy burst into the office of the Legonia Fish Cannery and hurled the question angrily at his young employer.

Gregory looked hard at McCoy's flushed face and snapping gray eyes. Then he said quietly: "I expect you to train them."

"My G.o.d!" McCoy came a step closer. Then he burst out: "Don't you know it's hard enough to run a cannery with real men without----"

Gregory was on his feet in an instant.

"Don't say it," he gritted. "Unless you want to hook up with me right now."

McCoy sought to explain.

"I'm not saying anything against them," he said. "But you don't understand. I wonder if you have any idea what it means to break in a bunch like that."

"Yes. That is why I hired you. I believed you could do it. If you can't, I'll find some one else who will."

Gregory leaned against the desk.

"Listen, McCoy," he said. "You and I have to get down to cases right now. There's no use flying off the handle. If you have anything to say, I'll hear it. Anything except a word against those men out there.

They've had enough already. You told me the other day," he went on, "you could break in anybody who'd stick. You showed me just the kind of work there is to do. These men I'll guarantee will stick and I think you'll get quite a jolt when you see what they've been taught to do. They're not all cripples. I've got some huskies for the strong-arm stuff. And there is a lot the other fellows can do. I want you to show them how.

You are not taking much of a chance that I can see. You'll get your money the same as you always have, more if you stick through. And every dollar we make, you'll have a few cents of it at least. Can you see anything wrong with that?"

"I don't see where you're going to get off. You seem to think there is a fortune in this business. I'll tell you there isn't. It's hard sledding to make both ends meet as it is."

"I know it. Last night I sat up half the night going over the books. I found my father lost more money on account of labor trouble than from any other cause."

"Except not being able to get fish," corrected McCoy.

"Exactly. That's labor just the same. Since this idea came to me it's getting bigger all the time. I'm going to extend it to the boats as well as the inside. I've got a plan to have Miss Lang take charge of the fis.h.i.+ng end, train my men and run her boats for me on a flat rental and salary."

McCoy began to show more interest. "Is she in on the deal?" he asked.

"I haven't had a chance to talk with her yet. I'm going to see her to-day."

McCoy smiled. "I'd like to see d.i.c.k's face when you spring the proposition of having her work for you," he said.

"Suppose she turns me down. Has that anything to do with your working for me?"

McCoy's face flushed. "Don't know that it has," he admitted, "but----"

The telephone interrupted further conversation and Gregory turned to the instrument.

"Yes--Mr. Gregory at the phone. All right."

McCoy watched the silent figure as he listened to the message; saw his jaws set tighter as he replaced the receiver and faced about.

"I'd kind of like to talk this thing over with Blair," McCoy began. "You see----"