Part 32 (1/2)

”a.s.surance?” muttered the other, startled by the Interpreter's manner.

The old basket maker continued, ”Are you and your self-const.i.tuted leaders of the American working people, G.o.ds? Are you not as human as any McIver or Adam Ward of the very cla.s.s you condemn? Would you not be subject to the same temptations of power--the same human pa.s.sions?

Would you not, given the same opportunity, be all that you say they are--or worse?”

Jake Vodell's countenance was black with rage. He started to rise, but a movement of Billy Rand made him hesitate. His voice was harsh with menacing pa.s.sion. ”And you call yourself a friend of the laboring cla.s.s?”

”It is because I am a friend of my fellow American citizens that I ask you what freedom your brotherhood can insure to us that we have not now,” the Interpreter answered, solemnly. ”Look there, sir.” He swept, in a gesture, the scene that lay within view of his balcony porch.

”_That_ is America--_my_ America--the America of the _people_. From the wretched hovels of the incompetent and unfortunate Sam Whaleys in the Flats down there to Adam Ward's castle on the hill yonder, it is _our_ America. From the happy little home of that sterling workman, Peter Martin, to the homes of the business workers on the hillside over there, it is _ours_. From the business district to the beautiful farms across the river, it belongs to _us all_. And the Mill there--representing as it does the industries of our nation and standing for the very life of our people--is _our_ Mill. The troubles that disturb us--the problems of injustice--the wrongs of selfishness that arise through such employers as McIver and such employees as Sam Whaley, are _our_ troubles, and we will settle our own difficulties in our own way as loyal American citizens.”

The self-appointed apostle of the new freedom had by this time regained his self-control. His only answer to the Interpreter was a shrug of his thick shoulders and a flash of white teeth in his black beard.

The old basket maker with his eyes still on the scene that lay before them continued. ”Because I love my countrymen, sir, I protest the destructive teachings of your brotherhood. Your ambitious schemes would plunge my country into a b.l.o.o.d.y revolution the horrors of which defy the imagination. America will find a better way. The loyal American citizens who labor in our industries and the equally loyal American operators of these industries will never consent to the ruthless murder by hundreds and thousands of our best brains and our best manhood in support of your visionary theories. My countrymen will never permit the unholy slaughter of innocent women and children, that would result from your efforts to overthrow our government and establish a wholly impossible Utopia upon the basis of an equality that is contrary to every law of life. You preach freedom to the working people in order to rob them of the freedom they already have. With visions of impossible wealth and luxurious idleness you blind them to the greater happiness that is within reach of their industry. In the name of an equality, the possibility of which your own a.s.sumed leaders.h.i.+p denies, you incite a cla.s.s hatred and breed an intolerance and envy that destroy the good feeling of comrades.h.i.+p and break down the n.o.ble spirit of that actual equality which we already have and which is our only salvation.”

”Equality!” sneered Jake Vodell. ”You have a fine equality in this America of capitalist-ridden fools who are too cowardly to say that their souls are their own. It is the equality of Adam Ward and Sam Whaley, I suppose.”

”Sam Whaley is a product of your teaching, sir,” the Interpreter answered. ”The equality of which I speak is that of Adam Ward and Peter Martin as it is evidenced in the building up of the Mill. It is the equality that is in the comrades.h.i.+p of their sons, John and Charlie, who will protect and carry on the work of their fathers. It is the equality of a common citizens.h.i.+p--of mutual dependence of employer and employee upon the industries, that alone can save our people from want and starvation and guard our nation from the horrors you would bring upon it.”

The man laughed. ”Suppose you sing that pretty song to McIver, heh?

What do you think he would say?”

”He would laugh, as you are laughing,” returned the Interpreter, sadly.

”Tell it to Adam Ward then,” jeered the other. ”He will recognize his equality with Peter Martin when you explain it, heh?”

”Adam Ward is already paying a terrible price for denying it,” the Interpreter answered.

Again Jake Vodell laughed with sneering triumph. ”Well, then I guess you will have to preach your equality to the deaf and dumb man there.

Maybe you can make him understand it. The old basket maker without any legs and the big husky who can neither hear nor talk--they are equals, I suppose, heh?”

”Billy Rand and I perfectly ill.u.s.trate the equality of dependence, sir,” returned the Interpreter. ”Billy is as much my superior physically as I am his superior mentally. Without my thinking and planning he would be as helpless as I would be without his good bodily strength. We are each equally dependent upon the other, and from that mutual dependence comes our comrades.h.i.+p in the industry which alone secures for us the necessities of life. I could not make baskets without Billy's labor--Billy could not make baskets without my planning and directing. And yet, sir, you and McIver would set us to fighting each other. You would have Billy deny his dependence upon me and use his strength to destroy me, thus depriving himself of the help he must have if he would live. McIver would have me deny my dependence upon Billy and by antagonizing him with my a.s.sumed superiority turn his strength to the destruction of our comrades.h.i.+p by which I also live.

Your teaching of cla.s.s loyalty and cla.s.s hatred applied to Billy and me would result in the ruin of our basket making and in our consequent starvation.”

Again the Interpreter, from his wheel chair, pointed with outstretched arm to the scene that lay with all its varied grades of life--social levels and individual interests--before them. ”Look,” he said, ”to the inequality that is there--inequalities that are as great as the difference between Billy Rand and myself. And yet, every individual life is dependent upon all the other individual lives. The Mill yonder is the basket making of the people. All alike must look to it for life itself. The industries, without which the people cannot exist, can be carried on only by the comrades.h.i.+p of those who labor with their hands and those who work with their brains. In the common dependence all are equal.

”The only equality that your leaders.h.i.+p, with its progress of destruction, can insure to American employers and employees is an equality of indescribable suffering and death.”

The old basket maker paused a moment before he added, solemnly, ”I wonder that you dare a.s.sume the responsibility for such a catastrophe.

Have you no G.o.d, sir, to whom you must eventually account?”

The man's teeth gleamed in a grin of malicious sarcasm. ”I should know that you believed in G.o.d. Bah! An old woman myth to scare fools and children. I suppose you believe in miracles also?”

”I believe in the miracle of life,” the Interpreter answered; ”and in the great laws of life--the law of inequality and dependence, that in its operation insures the oneness of all things.”

The agitator rose to his feet, and with a shrug of contempt, said, ”Very pretty, Mr. Interpreter, very pretty. You watch now from your hut here and you shall see what men who are not crippled old basket makers will do with that little bit of your America out there. It is I who will teach Peter Martin and his comrades in the Mill how to deal with your friend Adam Ward and his cla.s.s.”

”You are too late, sir,” said the Interpreter, as the man moved toward the door.