Are they, then, to suffer as you have suffered ?" There was a little stir at the back of the platform.

A tall, broad-shouldered man pushed his way through to the front.

His face was pitted with smallpox; he had black, wiry hair; small, narrow eyes; a large, brutal mouth.

He took up his position in the middle of the platform, ignoring Maraton altogether.
"Listen, lads," he began; "you are here to-night to decide whether or not you want another half-crown on to your wages.

This man who has been talking to you has done big things in America.