al, commonplace and unmysterious as a room could well be. The
secretary is perched on the stool making entries in a large ledger. An
eye shade casts his face into shadows. Eight or ten men, longshoremen,
iron workers, and the like, are grouped about the table. Two are
playing checkers. One is writing a letter. Most of them are smoking
pipes. A big signboard is on the wall at the rear, "Industrial Workers
of the World--Local No. 57."

YANK--[_Comes down the street outside. He is dressed as in Scene Five.
He moves cautiously, mysteriously. He comes to a point opposite the
door; tiptoes softly up to it, listens, is impressed by the silence
within, knocks carefully, as if he were guessing at the password to
some secret rite. Listens. No answer. Knocks again a bit louder. No
answer. Knocks impatiently, much louder._]

SECRETARY--[_Turning around on his stool._] What the devil is
that--someone knocking? [_Shouts:_] Come in, why don't you? [_All the
men in the room look up. YANK opens the door slowly, gingerly, as if
afraid of an ambush. He looks around for secret doors, mystery, is
taken aback by the commonplaceness of the room and the men in it,
thinks he may have gotten in the wrong place, then sees the signboard
on the wall and is reassured._]

YANK--[_Blurts out._] Hello.

MEN--[_Reservedly._] Hello.

YANK--[_More easily._] I tought I'd bumped into de wrong dump.

SECRETARY--[_Scrutinizing him carefully._] Maybe you have. Are you a
member?

YANK--Naw, not yet. Dat's what I come for--to join.

SECRETARY--That's easy. What's your job--longshore?

YANK--Naw. Fireman--stoker on de liners.

SECRETARY--[_With satisfaction._] Welcome to our city. Glad to know you
people are waking up at last. We haven't got many members in your line.

YANK--Naw. Dey're all dead to de woild.

SECRETARY--Well, you can help to wake 'em. What's your name? I'll make
out your card.

YANK--[_Confused._] Name? Lemme tink.

SECRETARY--[_Sharply._] Don't you know your own name?

YANK--Sure; but I been just Yank for so long--Bob, dat's it--Bob Smith.

SECRETARY--[_Writing._] Robert Smith. [_Fills out the rest of card._]
Here you are. Cost you half a dollar.

YANK--Is dat all--four bits? Dat's easy. [_Gives the SECRETARY the
money._]

SECRETARY--[_Throwing it in drawer._] Thanks. Well, make yourself at
home. No introductions needed. There's literature on the table. Take
some of those pamphlets with you to distribute aboard ship. They