And he led the way up to the editorial room and held her to the subject of the article he had asked her to write.At the first opportunity she went back to the subject uppermost in her mind.
Said she:
``I guess you're right--as usual.There's no hope for any people of that class.The busy ones are thinking only of making money for themselves, and the idle ones are too enfeebled by luxury to think at all.No, I'm afraid there's no hope for Hull--or for Jane either.''
``I'm not sure about Miss Hastings,'' said Victor.
``You would have been if you'd seen her to-day,'' replied Selma.
``Oh, she was lovely, Victor--really wonderful to look at.But so obviously the idler.And-- body and soul she belongs to the upper class.She understands charity, but she doesn't understand justice, and never could understand it.I shall let her alone hereafter.''
``How harsh you women are in your judgments of each other,''
laughed Dorn, busy at his desk.
``We are just,'' replied Selma.``We are not fooled by each other's pretenses.''
Dorn apparently had not heard.Selma saw that to speak would be to interrupt.She sat at her own table and set to work on the editorial paragraphs.After perhaps an hour she happened to glance at Victor.He was leaning back in his chair, gazing past her out into the open; in his face was an expression she had never seen--a look in the eyes, a relaxing of the muscles round the mouth that made her think of him as a man instead of as a leader.She was saying to herself.``What a fascinating man he would have been, if he had not been an incarnate cause.''
She felt that he was not thinking of his work.She longed to talk to him, but she did not venture to interrupt.Never in all the years she had known him had he spoken to her--or to any one--a severe or even an impatient word.His tolerance, his good humor were infinite.Yet--she, and all who came into contact with him, were afraid of him.There could come, and on occasion there did come--into those extraordinary blue eyes an expression beside which the fiercest flash of wrath would be easy to face.
When she glanced at him again, his normal expression had returned--the face of the leader who aroused in those he converted into fellow-workers a fanatical devotion that was the more formidable because it was not infatuated.He caught her eye and said:
``Things are in such good shape for us that it frightens me.Ispend most of my time in studying the horizon in the hope that Ican foresee which way the storm's coming from and what it will be.''
``What a pessimist you are!'' laughed Selma.
``That's why the Workingmen's League has a thick- and-thin membership of thirteen hundred and fifty,'' replied Victor.
``That's why the New Day has twenty- two hundred paying subscribers.That's why we grow faster than the employers can weed our men out and replace them with immigrants and force them to go to other towns for work.''
``Well, anyhow,'' said the girl, ``no matter what happens we can't be weeded out.''
Victor shook his head.``Our danger period has just begun,'' he replied.``The bosses realize our power.In the past we've been annoyed a little from time to time.But they thought us hardly worth bothering with.In the future we will have to fight.''
``I hope they will prosecute us,'' said Selma.``Then, we'll grow the faster.''
``Not if they do it intelligently,'' replied Victor.``An intelligent persecution--if it's relentless enough --always succeeds.You forget that this isn't a world of moral ideas but of force....I am afraid of Dick Kelly.He is something more than a vulgar boss.He SEES.My hope is that he won't be able to make the others see.I saw him a while ago.He was extremely polite to me--more so than he ever has been before.He is up to something.I suspect----''
Victor paused, reflecting.``What?'' asked Selma eagerly.
``I suspect that he thinks he has us.'' He rose, preparing to go out.``Well--if he has--why, he has.And we shall have to begin all over again.''
``How stupid they are!'' exclaimed the girl.``To fight us who are simply trying to bring about peaceably and sensibly what's bound to come about anyhow.''
``Yes--the rain is bound to come,'' said Victor.``And we say, `Here's an umbrella and there's the way to shelter.' And they laugh at OUR umbrella and, with the first drops plashing on their foolish faces, deny that it's going to rain.''
The Workingmen's League, always first in the field with its ticket, had been unusually early that year.Although it was only the first week in August and the election would not be until the third of October, the League had nominated.It was a ticket made up entirely of skilled workers who had lived all their lives in Remsen City and who had acquired an independence-- Victor Dorn was careful not to expose to the falling fire of the opposition any of his men who could be ruined by the loss of a job or could be compelled to leave town in search of work.The League always went early into campaign because it pursued a much slower and less expensive method of electioneering than either of the old parties--or than any of the ``upper class'' reform parties that sprang up from time to time and died away as they accomplished or failed of their purpose--securing recognition for certain personal ambitions not agreeable to the old established bosses.
Besides, the League was, like the bosses and their henchmen, in politics every day in every year.The League theory was that politics was as much a part of a citizen's daily routine as his other work or his meals.
It was the night of the League's great ratification meeting.The next day the first campaign number-- containing the biographical sketch of Tony Rivers, Kelly's right-hand man...would go upon the press, and on the following day it would reach the public.
