"Not a tap.

They can fire me if they want to, but if they do, I'll quit.

No more work in mine, thank you kindly.
Me for the freight cars an' the shade under the trees.

Go to it, you slaves! That's right.

Slave an' sweat! Slave an' sweat! An' when you're dead, you'll rot the same as me, an' what's it matter how you live ?--eh?
Tell me that--what's it matter in the long run ?" On Saturday they drew their pay and came to the parting of the ways.
"They ain't no use in me askin' you to change your mind an' hit the road with me ?" Joe asked hopelessly: Martin shook his head.