ill I get me some more law. Put it right square...."

But V. Vivian, gazing steadily over the chair-back, had obviously been
stoking his inner fuel.

"Ah! Rousing public opinion's no use at all?... Why, don't you _know_
that public opinion is the grandfather of your little statute-book laws?
Don't you--"

"Yair. Know. See you say that in your letter."

"Well, it's a _great truth_!... How tactful will you feel some day, when
one of those floors at the Heth Works collapses and kills a
hundred people?"

Labor Commissioner O'Neill seemed unterrified by the grisly picture. He
was strolling about the very large, bare, and strange-looking medical
office, flicking cigar-ash where he would: a good-natured-looking
Commissioner of thirty, wearing a glossy brown suit and strong yellow
gloves. And his present pacific air was undoubtedly to his credit;
certainly he had been annoyed when his eye first fell on the "Severe
Arraignment," over his morning rasher....

"And that isn't the worst of it," shot the doctor again, flinging out an
arm. "It's only a detail, I say, this factory end of it; only a symptom,
don't you see? What we're dealing with is the most dangerous element in
the life of this city! Tact!... When fire couldn't sweep through that
new house of yours faster than the corrupting ideals of these people'll
lick through this community!"

"Whe-ew!" said Sam O'Neill, this ground being not unfamiliar.... "Got to
take 'em along slowly, Doctor, all the same. Rome wasn't built in
a day."

"But mark my words, the vandals kicked it down in about fifteen
minutes."

O'Neill felt vaguely worsted by this riposte. He was the older man, the
practical man, with a proven ability to make money out of real estate;
but old V.V., though talking like an anarchist of late, was admitted to
have a verbal dexterity at debate. Argument was forced upon Sam, as it
were. He demanded authority for calling these people corrupting; desired
to know if V.V. knew any of 'em personally. And presently he was reading
aloud from the letter in the "Post," reading retributively; one
swingeing phrase after another.

"And here--here! Listen to this, will you?--'Why should we stand by and
permit these shameless egoists of industry to bleed the strength from
the community's sinew and grow rich by homicide at the cost of the
race?'..."

Severe, indeed, the Arraignment seemed when read aloud to you in that
tone. Gusto ebbed a little, mayhap. But it was clea