MARSTEN went to work with an energy and singleness of purpose which probably no organizer of labour ever felt before. Chance, or destiny, had placed him in exactly the position he had long hoped to attain. At first there was little to be done but wait until the Union had recovered from the wounds received in the late fruitless struggle; nevertheless, while he waited, he planned and gradually developed the scheme which he hoped would revolutionize the labour of the world. He saw in the future one vast republic of workers—not bounded by nationality, but spreading over the entire earth—with its foothold wherever one man toiled with his hands to enrich another. He had no delusions regarding the immediate success of his project, and did not flatter himself that his ideas would spread with anything like the rapidity of the cholera, for example; but he hoped first to place the Union on a firm footing in England, and then, with a brilliantly successful strike—conducted as a general of genius conducts a battle—to show what might be done by a thoroughly well-organized force against a rich and powerful firm like that of Monkton & Hope. He looked forward to the time when every worker in England would be a member of the Union; after that he hoped to affiliate all the workers in all English-speaking countries; finally, the benighted foreigner would be included. Then, when the whole was united like an electric installation in a city, the unfortunate capitalist who placed a finger on one point would receive the combined current of the entire system, and die without knowing what hurt him. The equipment of the workers would be so complete that strikes would become fewer and fewer, and finally cease; just as war will cease when weapons of offence reach such a state of perfection that no nation will dare to pick a quarrel with another.

This great republic of labour would be divided into various states, and these states would be again subdivided into as many sections as experience showed to be most practicable. Each section would elect its secretary, the secretaries would elect a governor of the state, the governors would elect a president of the whole organization. Every official should be paid a salary, sufficient, even in the lesser offices, to keep the incumbent and his family without the necessity of manual labour, so that each officer’s whole time could be given for the benefit of the Union.

Marsten gave much thought to the problem of reconciling deserved promotion with popular election, and, perhaps, if he had known more of the results of universal suffrage in a city like New York, he might have reconstructed his whole plan; but he had full belief in the adage that the voice of the people coincides with that of the Almighty, and so, perhaps, did not quite appreciate the practical difficulties which lay in wait for a scheme that looked beautiful on paper.

Early experience convinced him that he could hope for no active assistance from the men themselves, and he promptly eliminated that factor from his calculations. He thought of beginning his fight with an educational campaign, using in this way the time which must elapse before the treasury of the Union was once more in funds; but he found he could never get more than half a dozen of the men together at one time, and those who came to the meetings he called seemed to take but slight interest in what he had to say. This did not discourage him, as he was, in a measure, prepared for the indifference he met; and he remembered that his great model, Napoleon, took no one into his confidence. Napoleon struck unexpectedly,—struck quick and struck hard,—and Marsten resolved to do the same the moment he had the power. Failing to interest the men collectively in the desirability of a close and universal Union, Marsten tried to win their separate confidence; but he soon discovered that in attempting this he was travelling a dangerous road. He was amazed to find that there existed a latent sullen opposition to him; that many of the men seemed to regret the generous impulse which had caused them to place him where he was. They could not see what he did to earn the money he received; some thought they were giving him too much, as he had no work to do; and more than one advised him to keep quiet and leave the men alone, to know when he was well off, and not to turn the thoughts of the members to the fact that they were supporting him in idleness and luxury.

Marsten resolved to let nothing stand in the way of success. He believed he could more than earn any salary they gave him, and no man in London had a greater incentive for making and accumulating money than he had; nevertheless, he desired above all things to hold the good opinion of the men and to convince them that he was working for them and not for himself. He realized that alone he was powerless, but with their united support he was invincible.

He called a meeting to reconsider the salary of the secretary, and that meeting was well attended; for the subject to be discussed had more interest than his abandoned educational campaign, the purpose of which was to teach them the principles of combination. Most of the men thought him a fool in not knowing his own good luck.

Marsten, addressing them, said that his whole object in taking the secretaryship was to bring about an amalgamation of labour which would make the results of future strikes a certainty. All the rights mankind possessed had been won by battle; but the battles must be successful, and success was only possible when there was no dissension in the camp. He frankly stated that he had learned there was some dissatisfaction because he got more money than was earned by many who laboured in the ranks, and he had made an estimate of how little he could live upon, which was less than the poorest paid employee of the works received. He was willing to accept this sum, and would devote his whole time and energy to the cause of labour as faithfully as if he were given ten times the amount.

Gibbons, who had at last found employment in the neighbourhood, here rose to his feet. He said he thought the office of secretary could be still more economically filled. He was sure they had men among them, now in employ, who would act as secretary without salary from the Union, and perform all the duties quite acceptably to the majority of the men.

“Why didn’t you propose that when you were secretary yourself, Gibbons?” asked one of the audience, at which there was some laughter.

“I did not do so because I was at that time out of work,” replied Gibbons, warming to his theme. “I don’t wish to say a word against the present secretary, but I would like to ask him a question or two. He seemed once of opinion that Sartwell was a very shrewd, far-seeing man. I would like to know, Mr. Marsten, if you are still of that opinion?”

“I am,” answered Marsten.

“Then can you explain to the meeting why Sartwell has taken no further steps to cripple the Union, which we all know he desired to smash, and in fact did threaten to smash? Why did he not, in taking back the men, make it a condition that they should leave the Union?”

“How should I know? I may say, however, that I believe Sartwell to be an essentially just man, although he may be mistaken in some things, and I don’t think he would interfere with the personal liberty of his employees.”

“It is very generous of the secretary of our Union to speak well of the honesty of a man who looted our treasury, and we won’t forget that Sartwell has at least one friend among us. It is a little remarkable that that one friend should have been the only man, of all Sartwell’s employees, who was suddenly dismissed, and, as far as we know, without cause. One more question, Mr. Marsten. Do you know why Sartwell discharged you?”

Marsten was silent, the colour rising in his face.

“Of course,” continued Gibbons, calmly, “you are not compelled to answer. I am merely asking what many of us have been thinking. You either know, or you do not. You have called this meeting, and I think you should have the courtesy to answer any question—any reasonable question—asked you. You say you want the support of the men, whose servant you are. That is a reasonable desire; but to bestow that confidence we must have full knowledge of our man. I ask for the second time, do you know why Sartwell discharged you?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“On account of a personal quarrel between him and me with which this meeting has nothing to do.”

“Oh, indeed! Then you had personal dealings with the man we were fighting, which you would prefer us to know nothing about. I will not press for a more specific answer. No man is bound to incriminate himself. I have given Mr. Marsten a chance to explain certain obscure points that have puzzled some of us, and I think the answers wrung from him, with only too evident reluctance, have not bettered his position, nor made any thinking man among us the more ready to bestow that confidence which our secretary seems so much to desire. I would like now to call your attention to one or two points. Rightly or wrongly, the committee with which I acted had grave doubts of the loyalty of Mr. Marsten during our late contest. Before the strike began, he himself admitted that he had been closeted with Sartwell, and we know that while the fight was on he was the only man who had a conference with the enemy, and the only man who was able to tell us of the enemy’s plans—unfortunately when it was too late to make that knowledge useful to us. Whenever there was a crisis we found Mr. Marsten eloquent on the side of giving in—all through affection for the men, of course. I am making no accusations; I am merely stating facts that Mr. Marsten himself admits, and if I am mistaken in anything I say, the young man is here to set me right. These facts had a certain influence with the committee, causing a distrust to arise in their minds—a feeling that Mr. Marsten, for some reason, was more anxious to please Sartwell than to see his fellow-workers win. Now, what happens? The strike ends, and we are surprised to see that the only man dismissed is Mr. Marsten. The next move is that the young man is made secretary of the Union by a practically unanimous vote. I say that vote was to the credit of the men, and, had I been present, I would have voted for Mr. Marsten. But let us look into the matter a little closer. Who agitated the election of our new secretary? I now come to a difficult point, and I want to make myself perfectly clear, and to speak with absolute justice. ‘Say no ill of the dead’ is a noble motto, and I have nothing but good to say of that hero, Braunt. Greater praise hath no man than this, he gave his life to save others.”

There was tremendous cheering at this, and it was some time before Gibbons could proceed. Marsten sat silent in his chair, with the helpless feeling of a criminal in the dock. He felt the chain of circumstance tightening around him.

“Braunt was a hero in death and a hero in life. He was frankly and honestly against us from the first, and he fought us with an uprightness that I wish Sartwell had emulated. He took no strike pay, and used language against us which I hope has been forgotten, and which I know has been forgiven. There was nothing underhand in his opposition, and he broke the back of the strike by hitting from the shoulder when we had reached the desperation of utter exhaustion. But, while giving full credit to the splendid character of Braunt, we must not forget that he was throughout our staunch opponent, and that it was he who elected Mr. Marsten secretary of this Union.

“Now, gentlemen, I am a plain man, who does not think himself any better than the average. I do not look for angels with wings among my fellow-workers; I look for plain, every-day motives when trying to trace cause from effect. It is not natural for a man to beg for a reduction of his screw unless that man is an angel, or unless there is some hidden cause for his doing so. We strike to increase our wages, and I have never heard of a deputation of workingmen waiting on an employer to ask for a reduction. Mr. Marsten does what we know to be most unusual, and what we believe to be unnatural. What is his motive? Who is going to make up the deficiency in his salary? These are questions for you to answer. I have tried to state nothing but facts, and no statement I have made has been contradicted. The result is a chain of circumstantial evidence that would convict a man in any court in the land. Men have been hanged on evidence less complete.”

Gibbons sat down amidst universal applause. Marsten rose to his feet slowly. He knew the meeting was solidly against him, and that he had to bring it around in his favour or lose the race before it began. There flashed through his mind the sentence, “It is not the capitalist who will defeat you, but the men you are fighting for.” He remembered Braunt’s utter lack of faith in the rope of sand. Then he spoke:

“I have listened attentively to what has been said, and I have listened without interruption because I have sat spellbound by the cleverness of the speech, admiring its force and logic, and deeply regretting the fact that I have not the eloquence and gifts of the speaker who has just sat down. Two things are at this moment uppermost in my mind. First, that if some stranger were in my place, and I were sitting among you, I should believe him guilty. Second, there has come over me a feeling of sympathy with any man who has been condemned on circumstantial evidence. I know now, as I never did before, that many a poor wretch has gone to an undeserved death. Gibbons, you have throughout referred to me as Mr. Marsten. I disclaim the ‘Mr.’ as doubtless you do, so I shall call you plain Gibbons. Gibbons, you have defeated me. The meeting I have called together is against me and for you.”

There were cries of dissent at this.

“Oh yes, it is. I will prove it in a minute by putting it to vote, if you like.”

“Hold on!” cried Gibbons; “that is not fair. I protest against a vote being taken after such a declaration.”

“I am going to take no unfair advantage, and only spoke of a vote because my assertion seemed to be doubted. Now, Gibbons, you asked me several questions; I claim the right to put a few to you, and I charge you to answer as honestly as if you were on oath. Do you actually believe that I am in the pay of Sartwell?”

“I didn’t say so.”

“Do you believe I am?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What object could Sartwell have in buying me?”

“Oh, that’s too self-evident. If he controls you he controls the action of the Union.”

“Please explain how. No action can be taken without a majority vote.”

“That’s it exactly. That’s why you are begging for our confidence and support, so that when the time comes you can deliver to Sartwell what he pays for.”

“I see. Did Sartwell ever offer to buy you?”

“He never did. He knew better.”

“Did you ever offer to sell yourself to Sartwell?”

“What’s that? What do you mean?”

“I’ll put the question in another way. Did you write a private letter to Sartwell a few days before the strike ended?”

Gibbons rose to his feet in such evident confusion that several of the crowd laughed, and all were in a state of tense excitement. This was the kind of thing they liked. Marsten was carrying the war into Africa.

“What are you accusing me of?” cried Gibbons.

“Like yourself, I am making no accusations. Did you send such a letter or not?”

“As leader of the strike I may——”

“No, no. Answer, yes or no.”

“Let me explain. I say——”

“First answer the question, Gibbons.”

“I refuse to be coerced in this manner. I am willing to answer anything, but I must be allowed to answer in my own way.”

“No man is bound to incriminate himself, Gibbons, as you remarked a while ago. Since we cannot get an answer to that question, I will ask another. Will you give me permission to read your Sartwell letter to this meeting?”

Gibbons was dumbfounded, and forgot entirely, in his agitation, that the letter had been returned to him, remembering only that its contents were not for the general public. His attitude was that of conscious guilt.

“Read it, read it!” cried the crowd, and the shouts seemed to rouse Gibbons to a sense of the situation.

“I protest against the reading of a private letter in public,” he stammered.

“And quite right, too,” said Marsten. “I protested against the public discussion of a private quarrel; and the protest was held against me. Now I have no desire to push my opponent to the wall, and I will say at once that the letter in question may be as innocent as ‘Mary had a little lamb.’ I never read it and never saw it. I heard of it through a chance remark, but I know nothing of its contents. You see now how easy it is to ask a question a man may hesitate to answer, and you see of how little value circumstantial evidence is. Now, Gibbons, we are quits, and I am willing to let bygones be bygones if you are. I give you my word—and that is all I have to offer, for I’m the poorest among you—that I am not in the pay of any one on earth except yourselves. I swear to you that I have only one object in view, and that is the bettering of our condition. All I ask is fair play. Perhaps I can’t do what I think I can, but I want to try. If I fail, then let the next man come on and have his try, and he will have no more earnest supporter than I will be. With dissension in our ranks, nothing can be done; so I want the backing of every man in the Union, and more especially of the man who thinks I have been a traitor,—which I declare to him and to you I was not. Now, Gibbons, this has been an open question-and-answer meeting. There has been a free-for-all give and take here tonight. I have a last question to ask you: are you going to be my friend or my enemy?”

There were cries of “Toe the mark, Gibbons!”

“Time!”

“Speak up, my boy!”

“Show your hand, Gibbons!”

Gibbons, who had now recovered his equanimity, rose to his feet, and said: “I move, gentlemen, that Marsten be confirmed in his secretaryship of the Union, and I hope the vote will be unanimous. We will give him what he asks—a fair chance—and as long as he deals squarely with us, we will deal squarely with him. As far as my friendship or enmity is concerned, I may say that I’m a friend to any one who is loyal to the cause, and an enemy to those who are against it. I think that is all that can be asked of me or any other man present.”

The motion was seconded and carried unanimously, and the object for which the meeting was convened was lost sight of entirely.

Marsten went on with his work of organization, and met with much encouragement from the societies with which he entered into correspondence. Whatever opposition there was to him in his own Union, it at least did not show itself openly; but Marsten did not make the mistake of thinking Gibbons was his friend.