the machinery of production. It is theirs by right; the
wealth they produce is morally their own. The parasites who now consume
that wealth must be destroyed.

[_Great approval from workmen; almost a cheer._ MIFFLIN
_chuckles and noiselessly claps his hands._]

GIBSON: I'm the parasite!

SHOMBERG: Well, do we get any answer?

GIBSON: Does any one of you men here think he could answer all of these
demands satisfactorily?

SALVATORE: Sure! [_All acquiesce: "Sure, sure!"_]

FRANKEL: You can't put us off any longer with just no little bunch of
funny talk!

GIBSON: I'll have an answer for you in fifteen minutes. [_Turns to his
desk._] That's all.

SHOMBERG: Better have it before twelve o'clock.

CARTER [_as they go_]: Do what you kin, Mr. Gibson. All the departments
is worked up pretty unusual.

GIBSON [_wearily dropping back into his chair_]: Oh, no, Carter; pretty
usual; that's the trouble.

MIFFLIN: A splendid manifestation of spirit, Mr. Gibson! I'll just take
advantage of the--

[GIBSON _waves his hand, assenting._ MIFFLIN _overtakes the
group at door, puts his hands on the shoulders of two of the
workers; and goes out with them talking eagerly._ NORA
_follows._ GIBSON _sighs heavily; the telephone bell rings. He
takes up the receiver._]

GIBSON: Who is it?... Wait a minute! [_He takes a pad and writes_]:
"Central Associated Lumber Companies." ... Wait a minute. [_Looks at a
slip in a pigeonhole of his desk._] Oh, yes, you called me yesterday....
This is Mr. Ragsdale?... No, no, Mr. Ragsdale, I don't think I'm going
to do any business with you. You asked me forty-eight dollars a thousand
on 200,000 feet.... No, your coming down half a dollar a thousand won't
do it.... I say seventeen cents won't do it.... Hold the wire a minute.
[_Looks for letter in pigeonhole, but finds it in his inside pockets.
Then he holds it open, looking at it beside the telephone as he
speaks._] Hello!... No; I was right; there's nothing doing, Mr.
Ragsdale, I know where I can get that 200,000 feet at forty-five
dollars.... I say I know where I can get that lumber at forty-five
dollars.... No; I can get it. There won't be any use for you to call up
again.... Good-bye!

[_He paces the floor again thoughtfully, then abruptly goes to
the factory door; opens it and calls._]

GIBSON: Miss Gorodna!

[NORA _appears in the doorway. She looks at him with
disapproving inquiry;