In the Union Committee rooms a group of men were awaiting them, among them Mr. Wigglesworth and the little cockney who had made himself so obnoxious at the public meeting.
“What's all this tomfoolery, Wigglesworth?” demanded Captain Jack, striding in among them.
“(H)excuse me,” said the little cockney. “You are a member of the Woodworkers' Union I (h)understand.”
“Who the devil are you, may I ask?” said Maitland in a rage.
“(H)allow me,” said Mr. Wigglesworth. “Mister Simmons, Mr. Maitland—Mr. Simmons is our new secretary, (h)elected last meetin'.”
“Well, what do you want of me?” demanded Maitland. “Don't you know I am tied up this afternoon?”
“Tied (h)up?” asked Simmons coolly, “'ow?”
“With the match, confound you.”
“Oh, the match! And w'at match may that be? (H)Anythin' to do with your Union?”
Maitland glared at him, too dumfounded to speak.