And, as they saw him there
and thought of Captain Charlie, a deep breath of feeling swept over the
throng.
In his slow, thoughtful way the veteran of the Mill spoke. "There'll be
no one among you, I'm thinkin', that'll dare say as how I don't belong
to the workin' class. An' there'll be no man that'll deny my right to
be heard in any meeting of Millsburgh working men. I helped the
Interpreter to organize the first union that was ever started in this
city--and so far we've managed to carry on our union work without any
help from outsiders who have no real right to call themselves American
citizens even--much less to dictate to us American workmen."
There was a stir among Vodell's followers. A voice rose but was
silenced by the muttered protest which it caused. Jake Vodell, quick to
grasp the feeling of the crowd, was making his way toward his goods box
rostrum. Here and there he paused a moment to whisper to one of his
inner circle.
The old workman continued, "You all know the principles that my boy
Charlie stood for. You know that he was just as much against employers
like McIver as he was against men like this agitator who is leading you
into this trouble here to-night. Jake Vodell has made you believe that
my boy was killed by the employer class.
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