Saturday dawned a crisp, cold, bright day, promising to the expectant
sponsors of the House of Laughter, all kinds of success. But at twelve
o'clock a little group of mill workers, chosen by their fellows, went to
Frank Norris, the Superintendent, and asked for higher wages and better
living conditions, Adam Kraus acting as their leader. It was not the
first time these complaints and requests had been laid before the
superintendent--but now, in the hearts of the hundreds of men and girls
who hung around the yards long after the noon whistle blew, a new hope
kindled, for there had never before been a man among them who could talk
so convincingly as Adam Kraus or could more effectually make old Norris
realize that they all knew now, to a man, that they could get more money
almost anywhere else and work and live like decent human beings. Adam
Kraus had opened their eyes. He was their hero--for the moment. As he
came, somewhat precipitously, from the office building they gave a quick
shout that died, however, with a menacing suddenness, as they saw his
failure written on his angry face. They pressed about him, eager for
details, but he would tell them nothing beyond a curt admission that he
had not been able to make Norris listen.
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