At this point Brother Simmons rose.
“The mayor (h)urges the workers to get back to work,” he said. “Does 'e mean at (h)increased pay, or not? 'E says as 'ow this strike interferes with business. 'E doesn't tell us what business. But I can tell 'im it (h)interferes with the business of robbery of the workin' man. 'E deplores the loss of money to the strikers. Let me tell 'im that the workin' men are prepared to suffer that loss. True, they 'ave no big bank accounts to carry 'em on, but there are things that they love more than money—liberty and justice and the rights of the people. What are we strikin' for? Nothin' but what is our own. The workin' man makes (h)everything that is made. What percentage of the returns does 'e get in wages? They won't tell us that. Last year these factories were busy in the makin' o' munitions. Mr. McGinnis 'ere was makin' shells. I'd like to (h)ask, Mr. Mayor, what profit Mr. McGinnis made out of these shells.”
Mr. McGinnis sprang to his feet, “I want to tell you,” he said in a voice choking with rage, “that it is none of your high-explosive business.”
“'E says as it is none o' my business,” cried Brother Simmons, joyously taking Mr. McGinnis on. “Let me (h)ask 'im who paid for these shells? I did, you did, all of us did. Not my business? Then 'ose business is it? (H)If 'e was paid a fair price for 'is shells, (h)all right, I say nothin' against it. If 'e was paid more than a fair price, then 'e is a robber, worse, 'e is a blood robber, because the price was paid in blood.”
At once a dozen men were on their feet. Cries of “Order! Order!” and “Put him out!” arose on every hand. The mayor rose from his chair and, in an impressive voice, said: “We must have order. Sit down, Mr. Simmons.” Simmons sat down promptly. Union men are thoroughly disciplined in points of order. “We must have order,” continued the mayor. “I will not permit any citizen to be insulted. We all did our bit in this town of Blackwater. Some of us went to fight, and some that could not go to fight 'kept the home fires burning'.” A shout of derisive laughter from the working men greeted this phrase. The mayor was deeply hurt. “I want to say that those who could not go to the war did their bit at home. Let the meeting proceed, but let us observe the courtesies that are proper in debate.”
Again Simmons took the floor. “As I was sayin', Mr. Mayor—”
Cries of “Order! Order! Sit down!”
“—Mr. Mayor, I believe I 'ave the floor?”
“Yes, you have. Go on. But you must not insult.”
“(H)Insult? Did I (h)insult anybody? I don't know what Mr. McGinnis made from 'is shells. I only said that if—you (h)understand—if 'e made more than e ought to, 'e is a robber. And since the price of our freedom was paid in blood, if 'e made more than was fair, 'e's a blood robber.”