“That’s the plan,” Mick said as he rubbed his hands together. “Let the authorities try to toss out the hardworking people who toil for the Blackstones, the Carnegies, and the Rockefellers. I want people who have dirt beneath their nails and sweat on their brows to be heard. We’re the people who made America great, not Frederick Blackstone and his ilk. The people gathered in this cellar are the heart and soul and muscle of this country, and we will be heard!”

One of the boilermakers shook a bottle of beer and uncorked it, spraying foam over the crowd. Some laughed while others pushed and shoved to get out of the way.

“Settle down, now,” Patrick warned, but his voice didn’t carry over the boisterous gathering.

A gang of miners started chanting a labor song, riling up the crowd. A few of the women locked hands and began hopping in a circle dance. Spray from another bottle of beer arched over the crowd.

“Settle down,” Patrick yelled again, but the commotion only got worse. A fight broke out near the back when a drunken man fell onto a child, prompting the boy’s father to start swinging.

A piercing whistle split the air. Liam, the welder with the scar splitting one eyebrow, sprang on top of a chair, his face grim. “Quiet!” he bellowed, and within a few seconds, the crowd settled down. The brawny welder stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed the assembly.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Liam Malone, nephew to Mick Malone, the man of the hour.” He flashed a wink at Mick, who returned it, but Liam’s face quickly settled into an expression of deadly earnest. His voice had the rough cant of the other workers but without a trace of an accent, Irish or otherwise.

“It’s all fine and good if you want to carouse down here tonight, and even if you want to cause a little ruckus in the courtroom, but I won’t tolerate it outside the courthouse tomorrow,” he warned. “Go ahead and let the judge and the Blackstones have it in court, but as soon as a few of us get thrown out of the courtroom, I want more people to funnel in and stir things up again. The people waiting outside to take their places will be orderly and respectful. You will be well-dressed to blend in with the other spectators, or the courthouse guards won’t let you in.”

“And who’s going to keep them in line?” a blaster from Mingo County taunted.