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Updated: May 10, 2025
He was a small man with a big nose, grizzled chin-whiskers, and rum-and-watery eyes, and wore constantly a pair of patched blue overalls as a badge of his laborship. The seat of these outside trousers showed more wear than his hands. Immediately upon his appointment, Crimmins went to McGaw's house to talk over the line of attack.
Crimmins tried to interrupt long enough to free McGaw's red pepper, but her words poured out in a torrent. "Now ye can go back an' tell Dan McGaw an' the balance of yer two-dollar loafers that there ain't a dollar owin' on any horse in my stable, an' that I've earned everything I've got without a man round to help 'cept those I pays wages to.
"I'm the walkin' delegate of our branch." "Oh, ye're the walkin' delegate! You don't pay no two dollars, then, do ye!" "No. There's got to be somebody a-goin' round all the time, an' Dinnis Quigg and me's confidential agents of the branch, an' what we says goes" slapping his overalls decisively with his fist. McGaw's suggested stopper was being loosened on the vinegar.
Such a task, he felt, would not be altogether uncongenial to Crimmins, still smarting under Tom's contemptuous treatment of him the day he called upon her in his capacity of walking delegate. McGaw's tempting promise made a deep impression upon Crimmins. He determined then and there to inflict some blow on Tom Grogan from which she could never recover.
Sticking out of the breast pocket of her ulster was the big envelope containing her bid. Five minutes before the hour the men began filing in one by one, awkwardly uncovering their heads, and standing in one another's way. Some, using their hats as screens, looked over the rims. When the bids were being gathered up by the clerk, Dennis Quigg handed over McGaw's.
"The Stevedores' Union." "But Mrs. Grogan is doing it for thirty," said Babcock, looking straight into McGaw's eyes, and speaking slowly and deliberately. "Yis, I heared she wuz a-cuttin' rates; but she can't live at it. If I does it, it'll be done roight, an' no throuble." "I'll think it over," said Babcock quietly, turning on his heel.
The impending strike at the brewery had been made the basis of a paraphrase of "Johnnie, get your gun;" and even McGaw's red head had come in for its share of abuse to the air of "Fire, boys, fire!" So for a time this new development of tenderness on the part of Carl for Jennie served to ring the changes on "Moses" and "Annie Rooney."
"Bully for you!" Babcock came all the way down to her home to offer her his congratulations, and to tender her what assistance she needed in tools or money. The Union, in their deliberations, insisted that it was the "raised bid" which had ruined the business with McGaw and for them. It was therefore McGaw's duty to spare no effort to prevent her signing the contract.
There he began a series of complicated manoeuvres, mostly on his toes, lifting his head over those of the crowd, and ending in a sudden dart forward and as sudden a halt, within a few inches of young Billy McGaw's coat-collar. Billy turned pale, but held his ground. He felt sure Cully would not dare attack him with so many others about.
She saw in this last move of McGaw's, aided as he was by the Union, not only a determination to ruin her, but a plan to divide her business among a set of men who hated her as much on account of her success as for anything else. A few more horses and carts and another barn or two, and she herself would become a hated capitalist.
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