A deadly silence gripped the audience for a single moment. Then upon every hand rose fierce yells, oaths and strange cries. Above the uproar came Farrington's booming voice. Leaving his seat, which was near the back of the hall, he came forward, crying out:
“Mr. Mayor! Mr. Mayor! I demand attention!” As he reached Simmons's side, he paused and, facing about, he looked upon the array of faces pale and tense with passion. “I want to apologise to this gentleman,” he said in a voice breaking with emotion. “I should not have said what I did. The man who bears these scars is a man I am proud to know.” He turned swiftly toward Simmons with outstretched hand. “I am proud to know you, sir. I could not go to the war. I was past age. I sent my two boys. They are over there still.” As the two men shook hands, for once in his life Simmons was speechless. His face was suffused with uncontrollable feeling. On every side were seen men, strong men, with tears streaming down their faces. A nobler spirit seemed to fall upon them all. In the silence that followed, Mr. Maitland rose.
“Mr. Mayor,” he said quietly, “we have all suffered together in this war. I, for one, want to do the fair thing by our men. Let us meet them and talk things over before any fair-minded committee. Surely we who have suffered together in war can work together in peace.” It was a noble appeal, and met with a noble response. On all sides and from all parties a storm of cheers broke forth.
Then the Reverend Murdo Matheson rose to his feet. “Mr. Mayor,” he said, “I confess I was not hopeful of the result of this meeting. But I am sure we all recognise the presence and influence of a mightier Spirit than ours. From the outset I have been convinced that the problems in the industrial situation here are not beyond solution, and should yield to fair and reasonable consideration. I venture to move that a committee of five be appointed, two to be chosen by each of the parties in this dispute, who would in turn choose a chairman; that this committee meet with representatives of both parties; and that their decision in all cases be final.”
Mr. Farrington rose and heartily seconded the motion.
At this point Jack, who was sitting near the platform and whose eyes were wandering over the audience, was startled by the look on the face of McNish. It was a look in which mingled fear, anxiety, wrath. He seemed to be on the point of starting to his feet when McGinnis broke in:
“Do I understand that the decision of this committee is to be final on every point?”
“Certainly,” said the Reverend Murdo. “There is no other way by which we can arrive at a decision.”
“Do you mean,” cried McGinnis, “that if this committee says I must hire only union men in my foundry that I must do so?”
“I would reply,” said the Reverend Murdo, “that we must trust this committee to act in a fair and reasonable way.”