“It's a good name!” said Mr. Vedder, laughing.
“It's a wonderful name,” said I, “and it's about the biggest and finest work in the world—to know human beings just as they are, and to make them acquainted with one another just as they are. Why, it's the foundation of all the democracy there is, or ever will be. Sometimes I think that friendliness is the only achievement of life worth while—and unfriendliness the only tragedy.”
I have since felt ashamed of myself when I thought how I lectured my unprotected host that day at luncheon; but it seemed to boil out of me irresistibly. The experiences of the past two days had stirred me to the very depths, and it seemed to me I must explain to somebody how it all impressed me—and to whom better than to my good friend Vedder?
As we were leaving the table an idea flashed across my mind which seemed, at first, so wonderful that it quite turned me dizzy.
“See here, Mr. Vedder,” I exclaimed, “let me follow my occupation practically. I know Bill Hahn and I know you. Let me introduce you. If you could only get together, if you could only understand what good fellows you both are, it might go far toward solving these difficulties.”
I had some trouble persuading him, but finally he consented, said he wanted to leave no stone unturned, and that he would meet Bill Hahn and some of the other leaders, if proper arrangements could be made.
I left him, therefore, in excitement, feeling that I was at the point of playing a part in a very great event. “Once get these men together,” I thought, “and they MUST come to an understanding.”
So I rushed out to the mill district, saying to myself over and over (I have smiled about it since!): “We'll settle this strike: we'll settle this strike: we'll settle this strike.” After some searching I found my friend Bill in the little room over a saloon that served as strike headquarters. A dozen or more of the leaders were there, faintly distinguishable through clouds of tobacco smoke. Among them sat the great R—— D——, his burly figure looming up at one end of the table, and his strong, rough, iron-jawed face turning first toward this speaker and then toward that. The discussion, which had evidently been lively, died down soon after I appeared at the door, and Bill Hahn came out to me and we sat down together in the adjoining room. Here I broke eagerly into an account of the happenings of the day, described my chance meeting with Mr. Vedder—who was well known to Bill by reputation—and finally asked him squarely whether he would meet him. I think my enthusiasm quite carried him away.
“Sure, I will,” said Bill Hahn heartily.
“When and where?” I asked, “and will any of the other men join you?”