One of the reception committee came hurrying up to Evan and whispered that the assembly was waiting.
"We've got a box for your folk," said the bankclerk.
The other boxes were filled with ladies, none of whom were more attractive than Lou Nelson. Old man Henty pushed her chair out where a thousand bankmen might admire her, and it took her several minutes to master the color in her cheeks.
The two "organizers" came on the platform together, and the audience applauded generously. Evan sat down while Henty, his face aflame, announced in quavering voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, and especially boys of Bankerdom, instead of introducing you to Mr. Nelson and myself we will ask you all to stand and sing the Canadian National Anthem."
The orchestra leader faced the audience, with his baton poised, and one of the players led in the singing. The sound of the pipe organ itself was drowned in the strains of "O Canada" that swelled from so many young Canadian throats.
Thoroughly thrilled, when the singing was done Evan arose to speak. There was a demonstration of a few minutes, then the speaker's voice rang out vibrantly:
"Dear friends, I thank you for such a welcome. I am going to make a short speech, but not because I want to: the occasion demands it. There are many people here, who want to know what this is all about. I shall tell them and then we will get down to business.
"Perhaps if I had not been fired from one of the banks in this city, about four years ago, I should not be here now trying to organize a bank union. But I don't want any of you to think it is revenge I am after; I am really here to make it impossible for any clerk to be discharged and disgraced as I was, without a trial. You all know my story, how I was denied the right to plead my own cause, and all the rest of it. It is hard for me to forgive—I never can forgive them; but let us forget them. Those days of tyranny are over—dating from to-day."
Nelson was smothered in cheers and clapping of hands.