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Mr. White said, almost foaming at the mouth, “That's disgusting. I want you to go down and look at that place. It looks like a bar room in an old-fashioned middle western town hotel.”

I said, “what do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, “it's always full of anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five or thirty men with their feet on tables and chairs just gassing, just shooting their mouths off. That's all. It isn't work at all. These are labor people who come in form everywhere. There just drift down there, hang up their hats, sit down and talk with Kerwin.”

I said, “Haven't they got a strike on or dispute?”

“No! they haven't got anything going on. It's just some way to pass the time. They haven't got anything to do in their own offices in the AF of L. They like to make believe they're doing something so they go down to see Kerwin. They get down here about half past ten in the morning. They stay there couple of hours. They spend couple of hours at lunch. They drift back in here at about three, or half past three, spend the rest of the day.”

I said, “Is it the same crowd every day?”

“Well, some of the same faces are here every day, but there's some turnover.”