Joe looked at him.
"Lissner? Oh yes, over on Eighth Street."
The man went on:
"Mr. Blaine, I had eighty girls working for me…. I always did all I could for them … but there was fierce competition, and I was just skimping along, and I had to pay small wages;… but I was good to those girls…. They didn't want to strike … the others made them…."
Joe was stirred.
"Yes, I know … many of the shops were good…."
"Well," said Lissner, with a shaking, bitter smile, "you and your strike have ruined me…. I'm a ruined man…. My family and I have lost everything…. And, it's killed my wife."
His face became terrible—very white, and the eyes staring—he went on in a hollow, low voice:
"I—I've lost all."
There was a silence; then Lissner spoke queerly: