Next day Mr. Leigh received in his office a notification that a
deputation of the operatives on his road demanded to see him
immediately. He knew that they were coming; but he had not expected them
quite so soon. However, he was quite prepared for them and they were
immediately admitted. They were a deputation of five men, two of them
elderly men, one hardly more than a youth, the other two of middle age.
At their head was a large, surly man with a new black hat and a new
overcoat. He was the first man to enter the room and was manifestly the
leader of the party. Mr. Leigh invited them to take seats and the two
older men sat down. Two of the others shuffled a little in their places
and turned their eyes on their leader.
"Well, what can I do for you?" inquired Mr. Leigh quietly. His
good-humored face had suddenly taken on a cold, self-contained
expression, as of a man who had passed the worst.
Again there was a slight shuffle on the part of the others and one of
the older men, rising from his seat and taking a step forward, said
gravely: "We have come to submit to you----"
His speech, however, was instantly interrupted by the large man in the
overcoat. "Not by a d----d sight!" he began. "We have come to demand two
things----"
Mr. Leigh nodded.
"Only two? What may they be, please?"
"First, that you discharge a man named Kenneth McNeil, who is a
non-union man----"
Mr. Leigh's eyes contracted slightly.
"--and secondly, that you give a raise of wages of fifteen per cent. to
every man in your employ--and every woman, too."
"And what is the alternative, pray?"
"A strike."
"By whom?"
"By every soul in your employ, and, if necessary, by every man and woman
who works in this city--and if that is not enough, by a tie-up that will
paralyze you, and all like you."
Mr. Leigh nodded. "I understand."
A slight spark came into his eyes and his lips tightened just a shade,
but when he spoke his voice was level and almost impersonal.
"Will nothing less satisfy you?" he inquired.
"Not a cent," said the leader and two of the others looked at him with
admiration. "We want justice."
Mr. Leigh, with his eye steadily on him, shook his head and a smile came
into his eyes. "No, you don't want justice," he said to the leader,
"you want money."
"Yes, our money."
Again Mr. Leigh shook his head slowly with his eyes on him. "No, not
your money--mine. Who are you?" he demanded. "Are you one of the
employees of this road?"
"My name is Wringman and I am the head of this delegation."
"Are you an employee of this Company?"
"I am the head of this delegation, the representative of the Associated
Unions of this city, of which the Union on this road constitutes a
part."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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