republic and the day will come, I pray to God, when you will be scourged
and driven out with whips. Do you think you can form combines and deals
that will cheat you into heaven? Can your 'trusts' save your souls--is
'Wall Street' the strait and narrow road to salvation?"
The men about the table leaned back and stared at Arkwright in as great
amazement as though he had violently attempted an assault upon their
pockets, or had suddenly gone mad in their presence. Some of them
frowned, and others appeared not to have heard, and others smiled grimly
and waited for him to continue as though they were spectators at a play.
The political leader broke the silence with a low aside to Stanton.
"Does the gentleman belong to the Salvation Army?" he asked.
Arkwright whirled about and turned upon him fiercely.
"Old gods give way to new gods," he cried. "Here is your brother. I am
speaking for him. Do you ever think of him? How dare you sneer at me?"
he cried. "You can crack your whip over that man's head and turn him
from what in his heart and conscience he knows is right; you can crack
your whip over the men who call themselves free-born American citizens
and who have made you their boss--sneer at them if you like, but you
have no collar on my neck. If you are a leader, why don't you lead your
people to what is good and noble? Why do you stop this man in the work
God sent him here to do? You would make a party hack of him, a political
prostitute, something lower than the woman who walks the streets. She
sells her body--this man is selling his soul."
He turned, trembling and quivering, and shook his finger above the
upturned face of the senator.
"What have you done with your talents, Stanton?" he cried. "What have
you done with your talents?"
The man in the overcoat struck the table before him with his fist so
that the glasses rang.
"By God," he laughed, "I call him a better speaker than Stanton!
Livingstone's right, he IS better than Stanton--but he lacks Stanton's
knack of making himself popular," he added. He looked around the table
inviting approbation with a smile, but no one noticed him, nor spoke to
break the silence.
Arkwright heard the words dully and felt that he was being mocked. He
covered his face with his hands and stood breathing brokenly; his body
was still trembling with an excitement he could not master.
Stanton rose from his chair and shook him by the shoulder. "Are you mad,
Arkwright?" he crie
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