"What then?"
He smiled beatifically. "The boys and I held a little meeting yesterday evening, and we—ah—formed a union, with me as leader. I'd like to discuss the idea of a general wage increase for every one of the exhibits here."
"Higgins, you blackmailer, how can I afford—"
"Easy," he said. "You'd hate to lose a few weeks' gross, wouldn't you?"
"You mean you'd call a strike?"
He shrugged. "If you leave me no choice, how else can I protect my members' interests?"
After about half an hour of haggling, he sweated me into an across-the-board increase for the entire mob, with a distinct hint of further raises to come. But he also casually let me know the price he's asking to call off the hounds. He wants a partnership in the Institute; a share in the receipts.
If he gets that, it makes him a member of management, and he'll have to quit as union leader. That way I won't have him to contend with as a negotiator.
But I will have him firmly embedded in the organization, and once he gets his foot in the door, he won't be satisfied until he's on top—which means when I'm out.