ill we aid the men, or help to defeat 'em? If we want to beat 'em,
we've just got to take the places they're givin' up. Things has got to
be pretty bad when a working-man leaves his job these days--you know
that--so there's no use discussin' why they strike. Of course you know
the answer of these car companies, and all other companies--'supply and
demand.' And I'll tell you what rules the 'supply and demand.'--It's the
supply of stock and the demand for dividends. It's greed that makes this
demand, and it's poverty and sickness, and many mouths to feed, that
makes the supply. It's greed, and not decent competition, that milks the
companies and busts them, and drags men down to lower wages, or throws
them out of work altogether. What we've got to do is to demonstrate
which side we're on. If we're for the men, we must stand off and
persuade others to do the like; and if we're for our children, we must
do the same thing. But if we don't give a damn either for our own people
or anybody else, we'd better go and take the places until the companies
decide on the next reduction!"

The determination in his voice would have been fierce but for the smile
accompanying the words. Half-muffled applause and ejaculations of
approval could be heard from different parts of the room.

The man Schrieber looked up, his glance travelling from one face to
another down the long room until it reached Bill Nevins and settled
on him with an intensity that compelled an answering glance.

"You say, my friend," he began slowly, "we must demonstrate on which
side we stand. So say I. We must demonstrate--but not by waiting. We
must make a great spectacle--but not by idle tableaux. You think you
will compel these rich corporations to give in to these men by
withholding your services? It is an empty dream. There will come other
men from other places--you cannot prevent them from coming or the
companies from hiring them. The disease is body-spread--you cannot
doctor it locally. The longer we sit idle the fiercer will the disease
ravage, the deeper will it enter. Idle waiting will not do,--no, nor
throwing stones. That will only make a holiday for the militia--stories
for their armouries--child's play, forgotten by the children when the
game is over. It does not turn the attention of prosperous humanity
towards its suffering brothers, but it gives a pretext for 'man's
inhumanity to man.' It only costs a little money--a very little
money--easily saved by