The Gibson Upright | Page 7

was runnin' this factory--
GIBSON: Well, what would you do?
RILEY: The first thing I'd do, I'd see that the truck drivers didn't have no more discontent than nobody else. What becomes of your freight if you can't run no trucks? You got to look out, Mr. Gibson! It's us got the upper hand.
GIBSON: Go call your meeting and find out what raise you're going to strike for.
RILEY: Yes, sir; I'll do it. [He goes out quickly.]
NORA: [amazed and rather gentle]: Are you going to give them what they want?
GIBSON: No; I only wanted to get rid of him a minute to think--or try to.
NORA [in a low voice, offended]: Oh, excuse me! [She is going out.]
GIBSON: Stay here! [He seems to approach a decision--one of desperation and anger. Then he speaks crisply, but more to himself than to NORA.] All right--they get it! [Looks up at NORA, gives her a frowning stare of some duration.] Tell Riley to call off his meeting, please. I want all those spokesmen for the departments here. I'll give them their answer now.
[NORA looks at him, puzzled, bites her lip, and goes out quickly into the factory. GIBSON'S expression is determined; so is his action. He goes to the wall, brings two chairs, one in each hand, places them at the large table. Repeats this until he has chairs placed at the table on both sides and at the head as if for a directors' meeting. The door opens and SALVATORE, MIFFLIN, CARTER, RILEY, SHOMBERG, FRANKEL, and SIMPSON enter. They come in, speaking together; most of them talking somewhat ominously.]
CROWD: Well, he better!... We ain't workin' for our health.... My whole department'll walk out!... You bet your life we're goin' to!... He needn't kid himself about our not meaning business!
FRANKEL: Well, Mr. Gibson, we'd like to know what conclusion you come to.
GIBSON: I'm going to tell you. Simpson, please ask Miss Gorodna to step in.
[SIMPSON merely looks out of the door, and NORA comes in quickly.]
Carter, take that chair at the head of the table. Frankel, Salvatore, Shomberg, sit there, and there, and there! Riley, sit there. Simpson, there! Miss Gorodna, will you please sit here? [They take the seats he indicates, but they look puzzled, somewhat perturbed; whisper and murmur to one another.] Thank you! There! That looks like a directors' tables doesn't it?
SALVATORE: What's this all about?
GIBSON: I want to ask you people if any of you ever knew me to break my word to you?
FRANKEL: Oh, no, Mr. Gibson, we know you never break your agreements!
GIBSON: I want to ask you people: Haven't you found my word as good as my bond?
CARTER: Why, yes, Mr. Gibson.
SIMPSON: Sure! We know you'll do what you say.
GIBSON: Do you all agree to that?
SALVATORE: Soit'nly! You're a gentleman.
RILEY: Sure, we agree to it!
SHOMBERG: Oh, well, prob'ly so.
GIBSON: All right! I'm going to do something you don't expect, and I want you to know I mean it. But before I do it I want to tell you something. Probably you won't understand it, but for a long time I had a pride in this factory. Building up The Gibson Upright was really the pride of my life. To do that I knew I had to have a loyal staff of workmen, and for that reason if no other I have given you shorter hours and more pay than the men get in any other factory of this kind that I know of. I've done everything that can be done to make the shops healthy and light and clean. I certainly haven't been unfriendly to you personally. Any man in the factory was free to come in that door to talk to me any time he wanted to. I've done my best and we've been called the model factory. I've done my best but--it isn't enough. It never has been enough. And I've been told it never will be enough [with a glance at NORA] until the wage system has been abolished--until capital has been abolished and the parasite destroyed! I say I took a pride in the factory for years! Now I am no longer able to. I can't take a pride in a squabble, and that's all this factory has come to be. And I'll tell you frankly--you men feel you'd like to get rid of me; well, I want to get rid of you. And I intend to!
SHOMBERG [fiercely]: You goin' to close this factory down?
GIBSON: No; I'm going to give it to you!
SEVERAL WORKMEN: What!
GIBSON [emphatically]: I'm going to give it to you! I turn it over to you, here and now. This property is mine, but the use of it is yours. Don't you understand? You've said yourselves my word is as good as my bond. Well, the factory is yours. I'm going to