"Let's send out for a barrel of beer," a voice yelled from the back.
There was real enthusiasm in the shout of agreement and a collection was quickly taken up.
Two men were dispatched on the errand and when they returned, the keg was mounted on a table at the back of the room.
"Now," said one of them, waving his beer glass in front of him, "now we can get down to business!"
The meeting hall was a bedlam of noise and confusion as more than a hundred men milled around, talking and shouting.
The first keg of beer had run out long ago. Two new ones rested on the table, pouring forth their refreshment.
Tom pounded on the table with the gavel he'd found in Riordan's desk.
"The meeting will now come to order!" he shouted, for the fifth time in as many minutes.
He kept pounding on the table until he caught the attention of a few men down at the front.
"Quiet!" one of them bellowed. "Le's hear what good ol' Tom has to say."
The noise subsided to a murmur, then all the men were watching him.
Tom waited until it was as quiet as he thought it would get, then he cleared his throat nervously.
"We called this meetin' because today the company laid off fifty men an' we couldn't find Riordan to tell us why." He fumbled with the gavel for a moment. "The union, which is supposed to give us protection on our jobs, has now got to act, even if we don't know where Riordan is.
The men that were laid off today had seniority an' there's no reason why the company shouldn't take them back." A roar burst from the crowd. "While you fellers was drinkin' beer," Tom said, "I looked up the rules in the bylaws printed in my union book, an' it says that a meetin' is entitled to call for a strike vote if more than twenty-five members is present.
There's more than twenty-five members here an' I say we should vote a strike by Monday, unless the company takes us back right away."
"Strike!
Strike!"
"We've all been faithful employees of the company for many years an' always gave them an honest count an' they got no right to kick us out like that."
"Y-aay!"
"Don't let the nickels stick to your fingers, Tom," a man in the back shouted.
"There may be a spotter in the crowd."
There was laughter.
"If there is a spotter," Tom said grimly, "let him go back to the company an' tell 'em what we're doin' here.
We'll show 'em they can't push us around." There was a burst of applause.
Tom waved his hand. "Now we'll vote on a strike," he said.
"All in favor say aye."
The men were suddenly quiet. They looked at each other nervously.
The door at the back of the hall had opened and Riordan was standing in it.
"What's all this loose talk about a strike, men?"
They turned in surprise and stared at him.
The ruddy-faced, heavy-set union organizer started down through the meeting hall. A buzz came up as they saw him.
It was almost a sigh of relief. Riordan was here.
He'd tell them what to do. He'd straighten everything out.
"Hello, Tom," Riordan said, walking around the table. He held out his hand.
Tom shook hands with him. It was the first time he'd done so.
"We came down here because we thought the union should be doin' somethin' for us."
Riordan gave him a shrewd look.
"Of course, Tom," he said soothingly. "And it's the right thing ye did, too."
Tom sighed in relief.
For a moment, he had thought Riordan would be angry at the way they'd come in and taken over the hall.
He watched as Riordan turned toward the men and held up his hand.
A silence came over the hall.
"Men," Riordan said in his deep voice, "the reason you couldn't find me was I beat it up to the company office the minute I learned about the layoffs.
There was no time to call a meeting but I want you to know that the union was right on the job." A cheer went up from the men. They looked at each other embarrassedly. "And I want to express my appreciation to Brother Tom Denton here for his prompt action in bringing you all down here to the union hall.
It shows that Tom Denton, like every one of you, knows that the union is his friend."
Tom blushed as the men cheered again. Riordan turned back to the crowd.
"I've been working all afternoon, fighting with the management, and finally I got them to back down a little." A loud cheer shook the ceiling.
Riordan raised his hand, smiling. "Don't cheer yet, boys.
Like I say, I only got them to back down a little bit, but it's a start. They promised to have more meetings with me next month."
"Are they takin' us back?" Tom asked.