“I don’t know what Harrigan, the union leader from Pittsburgh, will say to this,” she told him. “He appointed Frank to lead and direct the strike here. He doesn’t like interference and he may not like your plan. But we working women need men, men like you who can plan and do things. There are too many men living on us. We need men who will work for all of us as the men work for the women in the carriages and automobiles.” She laughed and put out a hand to him. “See what you have got yourself into? I want you to be a husband to our entire union.”
The next morning four girl stenographers went to work in Sam’s strike headquarters, and he wrote his first strike letter, a letter telling the story of a striking girl named Hadaway, whose young brother was sick with tuberculosis. Sam did not put any flourishes in the letter; he felt that he did not need to. He thought that with twenty or thirty such letters, each telling briefly and truthfully the story of one of the striking girls, he should be able to show one American town how its other half lived. He gave the letter to the four girl stenographers with the mailing list he already had and started them writing it to each of the names.
At eight o’clock a man came in to install a telephone and girl strikers began bringing in new names for the mailing list. At nine o’clock three more stenographers appeared and were put to work, and girls who had been in began sending more names over the ‘phone. The Jewish girl walked up and down, giving orders, making suggestions. From time to time she ran to Sam’s desk and suggested other sources of names for the mailing list. Sam thought that if the other working girls were timid and embarrassed before him this one was not. She was like a general on the field of battle. Her soft brown eyes glowed, her mind worked rapidly, and her voice had a ring in it. At her suggestion Sam gave the girls at the typewriters lists bearing the names of town officials, bankers and prominent business men, and the wives of all these, also presidents of various women’s clubs, society women, and charitable organizations. She called reporters from the town’s two daily papers and had them interview Sam, and at her suggestion he gave them copies of the Hadaway girl letter to print.
“Print it,” he said, “and if you cannot use it as news, make it an advertisement and bring the bill to me.”
At eleven o’clock Frank came into the room bringing a tall Irishman, with sunken cheeks, black, unclean teeth, and an overcoat too small for him. Leaving him standing by the door, Frank walked across the room to Sam.
“Come to lunch with us,” he said. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the tall Irishman. “I picked him up,” he said. “Best brain that’s been in town for years. He’s a wonder. Used to be a Catholic priest. He doesn’t believe in God or love or anything. Come on out and hear him talk. He’s great.”
Sam shook his head.
“I am too busy. There is work to be done here. We are going to win this strike.”
Frank looked at him doubtfully and then about the room at the busy girls.
“I don’t know what Harrigan will think of all this,” he said. “He doesn’t like interferences. I never do anything without writing him. I wrote and told him what you were doing here. I had to, you know. I’m responsible to headquarters.”