"I tell you, Mr. Rosby, I reckon it's high time us members of the decent, enterprising class all banded together, in a common cause like, to remind them common folk of their place for good and all. This bothersome business of 'Worker's Rights" simply cannot continue, I say! Idleness! Sloth and evil humours is what it is, I do solemnly declare it! What's more, it's dangerous. We are the engine that keeps this world turning, and if we are not seem by the common working man as his better, and if that man will listen to the orators among his ranks over us, then that engine will seize up. And what will we have then, I ask you? Anarchy! Anarchy is what, I do declare it sir!"
The Gentleman felt it prudent to let Mr. Dufraine continue prattling on, growing louder and more declarative with each glass of wine that passed his lips. If Giles wanted to fill in the rest of their journey with a lecture on how decent, God-fearing folk should conduct their affairs, then The Gentleman would be only too happy to oblige him, occasionally smiling sagely and adding the odd "most certainly" or "quite true" etc., to show he was listening, and to spur Giles on in his tirade. The deal was done. hands had been shaken and papers had been signed, and all that was left for The Gentlemen to do was to keep his mark distracted from the details until they reached journey's end, which was hardly difficult. The delightful Mr. Dufraine was a bully top the core. The mines from which he had made his fortune had been soft targets, run by impoverished houses who had fallen from grace, and were desperate for any investment they could find, or by doddery old men who could no longer keep accounts in order. Once he had bought his way in, it hadn't been hard for Giles to take the establishments over through brute force. The man had never required wits, or the acute eyesight necessary to read a small print. Still, it amused The Gentleman to imagine how far he could travel in a hot-air balloon powered solely by Mr. Dufraine's verbalized ego.
"We should have started public hangings for suspected agitators three generations ago, before the rot set this deep, Mark my words!" Giles went on, his jowls a quiver, and his cheeks and nose now a blotchy red in hue. Why, I had the Foreman of the Rockfall Creek site say to my face, to my face in front of all and sundry, that conditions had become "unacceptable". Unacceptable! That's what he said. Why, I could scarcely believe my own ears, could you? The cheek of it, the brazen cheek of it!" He slammed his flabby palm down on the table to emphasise his distress. "Why, I said to him: "Your impertinence is all that is unacceptable here, Hansen. I shall decide what steps to take, and you will defer to me, or I declare I shall find myself a new Foreman from among these men who better knows his place." Well, I should think that was a far calmer response than he had earned, wouldn't you say, my good man? But then, and I shan't tell a lie, no sir I shan't, this is how he chose to repay my wisdom. He said to me: "You'll find no replacements among these men sir. One word from me and each and every one of them throws down their tools!". I swear it sir, I swear on my mother's life this is the truth of it! That's not all, no sir. The way theyt all looked at me when he said it, the... defiance, in their eyes. Well, I call it insolence! Still, let no man say I was cowed by such rebellion, let no man strain my honour so! I had that blasted Foreman flogged, and told the rest that any man who dared raise his voice in protest would be going home to their families with their flesh stripped bare! Ha! That made them remember their courtesies. Still, now they have the gall to threaten a strike, a strike of all things, if don't improve working conditions and raise their pay! A farce I call it, indeed sir I do! Still, with the men and weapons you've supplied me, we shall show those unwashed ruffians what befalls the common man who dares to step out of line. That we shall!"
"As you say." The gentleman replied, his eyes flickering to the right as a shadow fell over their window. It had been just for a second, and yet the day was markedly clear. The Gentleman had learned long ago to trust his instincts, and his instincts told him that trouble was on its way.
'Blast! If I do not leave this train with this writ, this whole journey has been a bust...'
"Something bothering you Harris, you seemed distracted for a second there." Giles inquired.
"A trick of the light. Nothing more."
