Jones. Think of it now. We've to act sharp if we're to do any good at all.
Peter (still wondering). And you've come officially to offer it to me?
Jones (roughly). Of course we have. Do you think we're playing with the thing?
Peter. It's—it's awfully sudden. When do you want my answer?
Ned. Now. (Seeing Peter's distress, more kindly.) To-night, anyhow. The whole thing 'ull be over in six weeks. We've little enough time in all conscience to create an organization.
Peter. And if I say—no?
O'Cal. Then one of the murdering blood-suckers that live upon our labour 'ull get the seat, and it won't matter either way which side wins, for it's all one to the working man.
Jones. It's you or nobody.
Ned (appealing). Lad, you'll not say no. I don't say you'll never get another chance, beeause B.A.s are sort of scarce in the Amalgamated Society of Engineers. But I do say this. We want you. You've got a call to a high place and a high duty. Are you going to fail us in our need?
O'Cal. We want you for another nail in the coffin of capitalism, another link in the golden chain that's dragging us up from slavery the way we'll be free men the day that chain's complete.