I got a right to think.
What for am I an alderman, then?
The constitution. . . .”
An Anti-Pinski Republican (a young law clerk).
“To hell with the constitution!
No fine words now, Pinski.
Which way do you expect to vote?
For or against?
Yes or no?”
A Voice (that of a bricklayer, anti-Pinski).
“He daresn’t say.
He’s got some of that bastard’s money in his jeans now, I’ll bet.”
A Voice from Behind (one of Pinski’s henchmen—a heavy, pugilistic Irishman).
“Don’t let them frighten you, Sim.
Stand your ground.
They can’t hurt you.
We’re here.”
Pinski (getting up once more).
“This is an outrage, I say.
Ain’t I gon’ to be allowed to say what I think?
There are two sides to every question.
Now, I think whatever the newspapers say that Cowperwood—”
A Journeyman Carpenter (a reader of the Inquirer).
“You’re bribed, you thief!
You’re beating about the bush.
You want to sell out.”
The Bony Plumber.
“Yes, you crook!
You want to get away with thirty thousand dollars, that’s what you want, you boodler!”
Mr. Pinski (defiantly, egged on by voices from behind).
“I want to be fair—that’s what. I want to keep my own mind.
The constitution gives everybody the right of free speech—even me.
I insist that the street-car companies have some rights; at the same time the people have rights too.”
A Voice.
“What are those rights?”
Another Voice.
“He don’t know.
He wouldn’t know the people’s rights from a sawmill.”
Another Voice.
“Or a load of hay.”
Pinski (continuing very defiantly now, since he has not yet been slain).
“I say the people have their rights.
The companies ought to be made to pay a fair tax.
But this twenty-year-franchise idea is too little, I think.
The Mears bill now gives them fifty years, and I think all told—”
The Five Hundred (in chorus).
“Ho, you robber!
You thief!
You boodler!
Hang him!