for us to do is to acknowledge our defeat, call off the strike, and give these starving men a chance to get honorably back to work."
Then came a new interruption from another source. Some one, back among the shadows, shouted in a shrill voice:
"How much do you get for sellin' of us out?"
There were shouts and laughter, and then a roar of disapproval. Lamar was angry. He could not brook that insult. It struck too near home. He turned his face in the direction from which the voice had come.
"I don't know who you are," he cried, "but I do know that you're a cowardly liar!"
In the dark corner confusion reigned. The man with the shrill voice wanted to fight. Some of his fellows were willing to back him; others sought to restrain him. An edifying spectacle, indeed, in a house dedicated to the promotion of the gospel of the Prince of Peace. The chairman of the meeting pounded for order so vigorously that quiet was finally restored and Lamar went on with his speech.
"If you vote down this resolution," he said, "you will compel honest men to become scabs. They can't continue to face freezing wives and starving children at your behest. They will seek their old jobs on the best terms they can get, and I shall not blame them. I do not know what will happen when the strike is declared off; I can promise you nothing. But I do know that Richard Malleson cannot successfully run his mills without the aid of his old men. If you prolong this strike you will doubtless wreck the Malleson Company, but you yourselves will be crushed at the bottom of the wreck. I beg of you to make the best of a bad bargain, to use judgment, to take pity on your loved ones, to behave yourselves like reasonable men, to cry quits, and go to work."
There had been no more interruptions, but, mingled with the applause that followed Lamar to his seat,
