wson gently, "but ask yourselves
why I brought my Marines all the way from Chatham to deal with this
meeting? Was it not that I would not put upon you the pain and
humiliation of arrest at the hands of your own sons and brothers?
Though I stand here with gold stars on my shoulders I am one of you.
My father worked all his life in the dockyard at Portsmouth, and I
myself as a boy have been a holder-on in a black squad of riveters. I
can make no conditions, but if you will leave yourself entirely in my
hands, and in those of my superiors, you may be assured that there
will be no attempt made to crush you, to break your spirit."

As he said these words an inspiration came to him, and by sure
instinct he acted upon it. Jumping down from the platform, he
approached the old sad-faced spokesman, and shook him hard by the
hand. Then he moved along among the other workmen, addressing them by
name, chatting to them of their work and private interests, and
showing so complete and human a regard for them that their hostility
melted away before him. This man, who had conquered them, was one of
themselves, a "tradesman" like them, one of the Black Squad of
Portsmouth, a fellow-worker. He was no tool of the hated "capitalist."
If he said that they must all go back to work unconditionally, well
they must go. But he was their friend, and would see justice done
them. Presently Dawson was handing out cigarettes--of which he had
brought a large supply in his pockets, Woodbines--and the meeting, of
which so much was feared, had apparently turned into, a happy
conversazione. For half an hour Dawson pursued his campaign of
personal conciliation, and then went back to his place upon the
platform.

"Go in peace," he cried. "Come again to-morrow afternoon and tell me
about the mass meeting. There will be more cigarettes awaiting you,
and even, possibly, a bottle or two of whisky."

The men laughed, and one wag called out, "Three cheers for holder-on
Dawson." The cheers were given heartily, the Marines stood aside from
the doors, and the room rapidly emptied. The officials of the
Munitions Department and the Colonel, who was Dawson's insubordinate
subaltern, crowded round him spouting congratulations. He soaked in
their flatteries as was his habit, and then delivered a lesson upon
the management of men which should be printed in letters of gold. "Men
are just grown-up children," said he, "and should be treated as
children. Be always just, pra