Part 22 (1/2)
The discussion veered and twisted after his abrupt departure; but Pelham could not fail to see, even through his disgust, how his father's insistent advice, no matter how unpleasantly phrased, dominated the group. The driver of men is never popular; and Paul Judson's keen, aggressive mind drove them against their wills. Within an hour a resolution embodying his idea was put and carried with only the son's dissenting vote.
The _Times-Dispatch_ contained a report of the meeting, and an interview with Paul Judson stressing the legal side of the situation. An editorial referred to the disaster as one of the necessary casualties of industrial growth, paid tribute to the company's promise of further safety devices, and hung on an attack on the ”forces of unrest that sought to make capital of the accident, to aid their insidious unAmerican propaganda.”
Pelham was puzzled by this wording, until he came across Jane, who had charge of the relief work among the victims' families. Her large eyes sparkled with a light of warfare, as she fell into step beside him, among the poor-ridden shanties of Hewintown. ”You hadn't heard? Why, it's all over town now, Pell. There's a big meeting at Arlington Hall at seven-thirty to-night, to discuss the accident--and a strike!”
”Fine! It had to come--the radical unionists were just waiting the chance.”
”Will you take me?”
”You couldn't keep us away.”
They arrived early, but the crowd had come earlier. Only by taking stage seats were they able to get in at all. When the son of the owner of the mine was recognized, there was slight hissing, and scattered handclapping from a few Socialists. Jensen came over quietly to Pelham, his eyes dancing. ”Your application's gone through, my boy; Hernandez has your red card in his pocket.”
They shook hands silently. Now, Pelham realized, he was a recognized member of the red-bannered army, who were leading man into his promised earthly heritage.
Michael Serrano, who presided, plunged into the thing that had brought them there. ”I'm a bricklayer by trade, as you all know. The bricklayers have made me president of their local four times. I'm called the 'reddest of the red.' If this murderous mine accident doesn't make all of you reds too, then you aren't fit for anything but to be murdered!”
The crowd stamped approval. They had come in fighting spirit; the proper key had been hit from the start.
”Now, if ever, is your chance to win your rights. The papers have been s...o...b..ring of wartime profits on ore; the reckless haste to line their pockets was the real cause of this explosion for which the worthy directors of your mines are responsible. They can't afford a shutdown now; this is your hour to win!”
Turning from the applause, he introduced Ben Spence as ”a labor lawyer, with a union card in place of a heart.” Spence and Jacks were the regular federation attorneys, and Spence was quite close to Pooley and Bivens; but he always professed a near-socialism that captivated his hearers in Labor Day addresses. He pa.s.sed from a humorous opening into an indictment of the mining corporations that brought the hot crowd clamoring to their feet, with wild shouts of ”Go to it, Ben! Eat 'em up!”
The next few speeches scattered. Pelham wondered if the ma.s.s desire would evaporate without action. Serrano saw the drift, and walked over to where the son of Paul Judson sat drinking in the wild-mouthed denunciation of his father's rapacity and cold-heartedness. ”I'm going to call on you, comrade.”
”You have to?”
The chairman nodded. ”You give 'em h.e.l.l. I'll sound 'em out first. These regular unionists--pfui!” He spat in scorn, and went back to his splintered gavel.
Jack Bowden, of the Miners', tied up with the Big Pooley gang, finished his inconclusive remarks. At once Serrano's orotund Italian voice shot out into the crowd. ”Now you've heard what you're getting. And you've heard what you're ent.i.tled to. How many miners are in this crowd? Raise your hands.”
Amid general neck-stretching, the hands went up--almost a third of the vociferous audience. There was a rattle of applause at the good showing.
”Are you going to stand being treated as dirt, or will you act like men?
How many of you miners vote strike? Let's hear your voices!”
The shout of approval showed how avid they were for some direct expression of their acc.u.mulated resentment. Bowden, a worried look on his face, rose to protest; the ecstatic chairman waved him down.
”I'm going to do an unusual thing. I'm going to call on one of your employers to tell what he really thinks about you. I call on Comrade Pelham Judson, a.s.sistant manager of the Birrell-Florence-Mountain Mining Company.”
There was no applause. Pelham, tremendously alone, walked down to the front of the big platform. His mind registered random impressions--the faded tawdriness of the cheap bunting below the dirty footlights, the smell of fetid cigars and pipes, bulging necks above dirty unstarched collars, the fierce resentment and s.h.i.+ning hunger for better things flaring in the eyes just below him. The irresistible contrast with the suave gray fittings of the directors' room flooded him.
He summoned all his knowledge of speaking, and stood silent, his eyes ranging the vast pit and the jammed galleries.
”Fellow laborers--comrades----” His voice choked. ”Many of you know how I think about this. What happened two days ago on that red mountain I love was murder--definite, systematized murder. The danger has always been known; and when every effort to wipe out that danger by law has been fought, and the deaths occur, I call that deliberate murder!”
There was a startled pelt of applause in one corner of the room. It did not spread; the others were too interested, too surprised, to pa.s.s judgment.
”What ought you to do? Your referendum will decide. If I were in your places, there is only one thing I could do--and that is, strike! Strike against the company, and me--yes! Strike for the enforcement of the weak-kneed mining law, and for a better one! Strike for more pay, shorter hours, and your organization! Fight back! Unite”--his long, tense arms reached out, and drew in together in a clenching grasp--”bring together your force as one man, and there is no power in the world that can stand against you!”
This was familiar. They howled agreement.