our class has mismanaged? You have talked
about other things and things concerning other things, but you have not
answered. Is it because you have no answer?"

It was at the end of the discussion that Mr. Wickson spoke. He was the
only one that was cool, and Ernest treated him with a respect he had not
accorded the others.

"No answer is necessary," Mr. Wickson said with slow deliberation. "I
have followed the whole discussion with amazement and disgust. I am
disgusted with you gentlemen, members of my class. You have behaved like
foolish little schoolboys, what with intruding ethics and the thunder
of the common politician into such a discussion. You have been
outgeneralled and outclassed. You have been very wordy, and all you have
done is buzz. You have buzzed like gnats about a bear. Gentlemen, there
stands the bear" (he pointed at Ernest), "and your buzzing has only
tickled his ears.

"Believe me, the situation is serious. That bear reached out his paws
tonight to crush us. He has said there are a million and a half of
revolutionists in the United States. That is a fact. He has said that
it is their intention to take away from us our governments, our palaces,
and all our purpled ease. That, also, is a fact. A change, a great
change, is coming in society; but, haply, it may not be the change the
bear anticipates. The bear has said that he will crush us. What if we
crush the bear?"

The throat-rumble arose in the great room, and man nodded to man
with indorsement and certitude. Their faces were set hard. They were
fighters, that was certain.

"But not by buzzing will we crush the bear," Mr. Wickson went on coldly
and dispassionately. "We will hunt the bear. We will not reply to the
bear in words. Our reply shall be couched in terms of lead. We are in
power. Nobody will deny it. By virtue of that power we shall remain in
power."

He turned suddenly upon Ernest. The moment was dramatic.

"This, then, is our answer. We have no words to waste on you. When you
reach out your vaunted strong hands for our palaces and purpled ease,
we will show you what strength is. In roar of shell and shrapnel and
in whine of machine-guns will our answer be couched.* We will grind you
revolutionists down under our heel, and we shall walk upon your faces.
The world is ours, we are its lords, and ours it shall remain. As for
the host of labor, it has been in the dirt since history began, and I
read history aright. And in the dirt it