Braunt sprang upon the platform, advanced to the chair, smote his clinched fist on the table, and cried:
“Here I am, Scimmins. Now put me out; d’ye hear?”
He paused for a reply, but there was none. Scimmins, shrinking from him, obviously prepared for flight if Braunt attempted to storm the position. The Yorkshireman glared about him, but those on the platform appeared to think that the time for protest had not yet arrived. Meanwhile, the audience was calling loudly for a speech.
“I haven’t much to say, mates,” began Braunt, calming down through lack of opposition, “and I’m no man at the gab. I’m a worker, and all I want is a chance to earn my bread. But I’ll say this: I saw in t’ papers not so long ago that there’s twenty-seven thousand men of our trade out of work in England today. Twenty-seven thousand men anxious for a job. Now what is this man Gibbons asking you to do? He’s asking you to chook up your jobs and have your places taken by some of them twenty-seven thousand. Sartwell has only to put an advertisement in the papers, and he can fill the shops five times over in two days. It’s always easier to chook oop a job than to get a new one these times. I know, because I’ve tried it. So have most of you. Take my advice, and go no further with this nonsense. If Sartwell, as Mar-sten says, is willing to talk over grievances, then I say let us send him a deputation of our own men, with no outsiders among ’em. What’s the Union done for us? Taken our money every week, that’s all I can see. And now they have got so much of it they want to squander it fighting a strong man like Sartwell.”
Marsten had sat down on the edge of the platform. We are always quicker to perceive the mistakes of others than to recognize our own, and he did not like Braunt’s talk against the Union. He felt that it would be unpopular, besides he believed in the Union if it were properly led. His fight was against Gibbons, not against the organization.
Gibbons was in his chair, and he had rapidly taken the measure of the speaker. He saw that the address was having its effect, and that the crowd was slipping away from his control. It was a risky thing to do with such a powerful man, but he made up his mind that Braunt must be angered, when he would likely, in his violence, lose all the ground he had gained. So Gibbons quietly, with his eye, gathered up his trusty henchmen, who were scattered in different parts of the hall to give an appearance of unanimity to the shouting when the proper time came, and these men had now gradually edged to the front during the speaking. One or two had silently mounted the platform and held a whispered conference with the secretary, after which they and some others took their places behind the seated committee. When Sartwell was alluded to, Gibbons arose.
“Mr. Chairman,” he said, “I cannot allow——”
Braunt turned on him like a raging lion.
“Don’t you interrupt me,” he cried, rolling up his sleeves, “or I’ll bash you through that window.”
“Order, order!” said the chairman, faintly.