Bennington mounted a pile of molds and raised his hand.  The murmur of voices dwindled away into silence.  The sun came in through the spreading skylights, and Bennington stood in the center of the radiance.  He was a man, every inch of him, and not a man among them could deny it.  There are many things that are recognizable even to crass minds, and one of these is a man.  Genius they look upon with contempt, but not strength and resolution; they can not comprehend what is not visible to the eye.

“Fire away, boss!” said a voice from the crowd.

Many of the men smiled, but there was no answering smile on the face of the man on the molds.

“I have but few words to say to you men, and I trust for the sake of your families that you will weigh carefully every word I utter.”  Bennington took his father’s letter from his pocket and unfolded it.  “You are about to take a step such as you all will live to regret.  My father never threatened; he acted.  I shall follow his example.  You are on the verge of striking.  I shall recognize the strike only at the moment you decide to leave the shops.  You will strike without cause, without justice, simply because you are commanded to do so by your leader.”

“Hold on, Mr. Bennington!” cried one of those nearest him.  “We have the right to vote, and we voted against your policy in hiring a non-union man.”

“Put it that way if it pleases you,” replied Bennington.  “I say that you strike simply to show how strong your power is.  It is a fine thing to have power, but it is finer by far to use it only when justice makes a cause.  But power is a terrible weapon in the hands of those who can not direct it wisely.  Let me come to facts.  Your wages are the highest in the city, five per cent. above the union scale; your hours are the shortest; there is no Sunday-night shift; you have at your pleasure a gymnasium and a swimming-pool; you are each of you given a week’s vacation in the summer on full pay, a thing no other concern of the kind in the state does; all the machinery is flawless, minimizing your chances of danger; in fact, you draw pay fifty-two weeks in the year in the squarest shop in the world.  If any man wishes to deny these things, let him stand forth.”

But there was neither sound nor movement from the men.

Bennington continued.  “Men, you have no grievance.  This man Chittenden, the alleged cause of your striking, takes no food or pay from your mouths or your pockets; he interferes with you in no manner whatever.  The contrivance he is trying to complete will not limit the output, but will triple it, necessitating the employment of more men.  But your leader says that the present output is wholly sufficient, and you are taking his word for it.  Mr. Chittenden represents progress, but you have taken it into your heads that you will have none of it.  He refuses to join the union, and I refuse to discharge him on that ground.  I do not say that this shall not be a union shop; I say that I shall employ whom I will for any purpose I see fit.  It is your say, so say it; yours is the power; use it. ...  Patience, just a little longer.  I have shown much of it during the past year.”