GIBSON:  So you people are going out again, are you?

SIMPSON:  I guess it’s a general strike, Mr. Gibson.  I’m afraid if you don’t give the boys satisfactory answers the place will close down at noon.

GIBSON:  Have satisfactory answers ever satisfied you?

SALVATORE:  Ain’t we got no right to stand up for our rights?

FRANKEL:  Don’t you get all you can from us?  Well, you bet your life we’re goin’ to keep on gettin’ all we can from you!

GIBSON:  Then life isn’t worth anything to either of us—­if it’s all fight!  Is that to go on forever?

NORA:  No, Mr. Gibson; it’s to go on until the abolition of the wage system!

MIFFLIN:  Good!

NORA:  The struggle with capitalism will continue till the workers take possession of the machinery of production.  It is theirs by right; the wealth they produce is morally their own.  The parasites who now consume that wealth must be destroyed.

     [Great approval from workmen; almost a cheer. MIFFLIN
     chuckles and noiselessly claps his hands.]

GIBSON:  I’m the parasite!

SHOMBERG:  Well, do we get any answer?

GIBSON:  Does any one of you men here think he could answer all of these demands satisfactorily?

SALVATORE:  Sure! [All acquiesce:  “Sure, sure!"]

FRANKEL:  You can’t put us off any longer with just no little bunch of funny talk!

GIBSON:  I’ll have an answer for you in fifteen minutes. [Turns to his desk.] That’s all.

SHOMBERG:  Better have it before twelve o’clock.

CARTER [as they go]:  Do what you kin, Mr. Gibson.  All the departments is worked up pretty unusual.

GIBSON [wearily dropping back into his chair]:  Oh, no, Carter; pretty usual; that’s the trouble.

MIFFLIN:  A splendid manifestation of spirit, Mr. Gibson!  I’ll just take advantage of the—­

[GIBSON waves his hand, assenting. MIFFLIN overtakes the group at door, puts his hands on the shoulders of two of the workers; and goes out with them talking eagerly. NORA follows. GIBSON sighs heavily; the telephone bell rings.  He takes up the receiver.]

GIBSON:  Who is it?...  Wait a minute! [He takes a pad and writes]:  “Central Associated Lumber Companies.” ...  Wait a minute. [Looks at a slip in a pigeonhole of his desk.] Oh, yes, you called me yesterday....  This is Mr. Ragsdale?...  No, no, Mr. Ragsdale, I don’t think I’m going to do any business with you.  You asked me forty-eight dollars a thousand on 200,000 feet....  No, your coming down half a dollar a thousand won’t do it....  I say seventeen cents won’t do it....  Hold the wire a minute. [Looks for letter in pigeonhole, but finds it in his inside pockets.  Then he holds it open, looking at it beside the telephone as he speaks.] Hello!...  No; I was right; there’s nothing doing, Mr. Ragsdale, I know where I can get that 200,000 feet at forty-five dollars....  I say I know where I can get that lumber at forty-five dollars....  No; I can get it.  There won’t be any use for you to call up again....  Good-bye!