leaned against the wall and watched.

He was recognized. Here and there a man offered him good morning with
a friendliness of tone that surprised Bonbright. A good many men
spoke to him respectfully; more regarded him curiously; some
hopefully. It was the occasional friendly smile that affected him.
One such smile from an older workman, a man of intelligent face, of
shrewd, gray eyes, caused Bonbright to move from his place to the
man's side.

"I don't know your name, of course," he said, diffidently.

"Hooper," said the man, pleasantly.

"The men seem to know me," Bonbright said. "I was a little surprised.
I only came yesterday, you know."

"Yes," said Hooper, "they know who you are."

"They seemed---almost friendly."

Hooper looked sharply at the young man. "It's because," said he,
"they're pinning hopes to you."

"Hopes?"

"Labor can't get anywhere until it makes friends in the ranks of the
employers," said Hooper. "I guess most of the men don't understand
that--even most of the leaders, but it's so. It's got to be so if we
get what we must have without a revolution."