and in whose head were all the brains of all the big men
at the top, had now come tottering crashing down. And in its place a
huge new god, whose feet stood deep in poverty and in whose head were
all the dreams of all the toilers of the earth, had called to me with
one deep voice, with one tremendous burning passion for the freedom of
mankind.

BOOK IV

CHAPTER I

Once I saw the harbor in a February storm. And in the wind and skurrying
snow I saw it all together like one whirling thing alive. But the next
morning the storm had died away, and a wind from the south had brought
banks of fog that moved sluggishly low down on the water dividing the
whole region into many separate parts. And from above, a dazzling sun
shone down upon three objects near me, a ferryboat, a puffing tug, and a
tramp which lay at anchor, shone so brightly on these three they seemed
alone, with nothing but mist all about them.

So it was now for a time with me. The strike, which had so suddenly
drawn me into its whirling crowd-life, now as suddenly dropped away. And
personal troubles piled one on the other. In place of that mass of
thousands, I saw only a few people I loved, and I saw them so intensely
that for a time we were quite alone, with nothing but mist all around
us.

* * * * *

Sue sent for me one morning and I went over to our house. I was startled
by the change in her face. It looked not only tired, it looked so
disillusioned, done, so through with all the absorbing ideas and warm
enthusiasms that had given it abundant life.

"I'm not going to marry Joe Kramer," she said. "And I want you to tell
him so."

I stared at her blankly.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Are you?" There was just a worn shadow of her old smile.

"I don't know why I said that," I replied. "My head's rather dull this
morning. All right, Sis, I'll tell him." Still I watched her pityingly.
Poor old Sue. What a crash in her life.

"I'd like you to tell him the whole truth," my sister went on sharply,
"just why I've decided as I have. Don't say it's because of father. When
I wanted Joe, Dad didn't count, he was nothing to me but a back number.
But I _don't_ want him now--Joe, I mean--I don't love him any more. If I
went to him to-day in his cell and said I'd stick by him no matter what
happened because he was the man I loved--I'd be lying--that wouldn't be
me. The real me is a much smaller person than that. I don't love Joe