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“Which one of you’s in charge?” he demanded

Perry pointed to the major

“We need souv”

“Unloading what?”

“’Undred and forty-eight crates of fish paste jars Saot anyone to unload them, we’ll have to take them back to Doncaster, and that’ll cost you”

“Perhaps you could give them a hand, Perry”

“I’ement, major The unions would down tools if I so much as looked at a crate”

That hen Fisher realized that every one of the from the same hymn sheet, and he wasn’t the choirmaster

Thewhich tiham’s fish paste left the factory On balance, he decided that doing battle with the Ger to ith a bunch of bolshie shop stewards on Humberside

On Friday night, after the workers—all two hundred of theone home, the curtain finally came down The major checked out of the Humber Royal Hotel and took the last train back to London

“Bingham’s shares have fallen another ten percent,” said Seb

“What’s the spot price?” asked Bob

Seb checked the ticker-tape s and sixpence No, seven shillings and fourpence”

“But they were a pound only a week ago”