at. Almost with relief Macheson saw that he at least had no
pitiful tale to tell. He was a small dapper man, well dressed, and spoke
with a slight American accent.

"Mr. Macheson," he said, "I'm taking the liberty of introducing myself.
Peter Drayton my name is, never mind my profession. It wouldn't interest
you."

Macheson nodded.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, with some curiosity.

"Say, I've been very much interested in these talks of yours to the
people," Mr. Drayton remarked. "But it's occurred to me that you're on
the wrong end of the stick. That's why I'm here. You're saying the right
things, and you've got the knack of saying them so that people have just
got to listen, but you're saying them to the wrong crowd."

"I don't understand," Macheson was forced to confess.

"Well, I reckon it's simple enough," Drayton answered. "These people
here don't need to have their own misery thrust down their throats, even
while you're trying to show them how to bear it. It's the parties who
are responsible for it all that you want to go for. See what I mean?"

"I think so," Macheson admitted, "but----"

"Look here," Drayton interrupted, "you're a man of common sense, and you
know that life's more or less a stand-up fight. Those that are licked
live here in Whitechapel--if you can call it living--and those who win
get to Belgravia! It's a pitiless sort of affair this fight, but there
it is. Now which of the two do you think need preaching to, these
people, or the people who are responsible for them? You've started a
mission in Whitechapel--it would have been more logical, if there's a
word of truth in your religion, to have started it in Mayfair."

Macheson laughed.

"They wouldn't listen to me," he declared.

"I'd see to that," Drayton answered quickly. "It's my business. I want
you to give a course of--well, we'd call them lectures, in the West End.
You can say what you like. You can pitch into 'em as hot as Hell! I'll
guarantee you a crowded audience every time."

"I have no interest in those people," Macheson said. "Why should I go
and lecture to them? My sympathies are all down here."

"Exactly," Drayton answered. "I want you to stir up the people who can
really help, people who can give millions, pull down these miles of
fever-tainted rat holes, endow farms here and abroad. Lash them till
their conscience squeaks! See? What's the good of preaching to these
people? That won't do any good! You want to pr