THE SCAB
45
money-what am I gonna do? See? . . And don't forget I'm
not stealing anything. I'm working for it."
"Well," Brandt says, almost incredulous, and he.
glance,~
at McHugh, "so you were making nine dollars a day m .
"Pennsylvania."
"-Pennsylvania, and in Seattle, how much did you say
you made in Seattle?"
"What's the difference?" The fellow is annoyed by now.
"What do you want?"
Brandt appears very calm and he turns to McHugh beside
him. "What shall we tell him, McHugh? Do we want any–
thing from him?"
McHugh is glaring at the man and Brandt twists around
too so that the man notices suddenly and his face hardens and
his lips tighten.
"Hell, why should we want something from you?" Brandt
says. "Huh? You worked honest all the time,-ain't he,
McHugh?"
The man is half risen and his face is pale now.
"What do you want?" he says and stands up.
Brandt stands up too and moves closer to him. "McHugh,
the guy keeps asking us what we want. Can you beat that?
We don't want nothing-" the man is back against the wall
and Brandt stands before him with his coat open. The man
is perspiring and pale and Brandt grabs him. "Nothing, only
you're a goddam scab, that's all. You ain't fit to live, that's
all."
"Sock him," McHugh says.
"You're a lousy scab and I'm gonna beat you up, that's
all." He throws the man back against the wall and his head
falls back and strikes the wall. The man is trembling.
"Sock him,'' McHugh says.
Brandt shakes the man again and he almost falls to the
floor so that Brandt drags him up again and holds him straight.
The man has his hands raised but he keeps wetting his lips and
stares helplessly.
"Sock him will you
I"
McHugh shouts and moves forward.
"Sure I will," says Brandt, but he only shakes the man
and feels him trembling in his hands and sees his eyes staring.
"I'll kill this son of a bitch," he says, but the man is limp
in his hands. He holds him by the throat and clenches his fist
but he cannot raise his arm and hit this flesh, he cannot. The
