t get the service and
safety to which we are entitled,--so increasing dividends; and to make
and maintain laws which enable them to bribe with passes, to pay less
taxes than they should, and to manipulate political machinery."

"That's right," said Mr. Jarley of Wye, with a decided emphasis.

"That's the kind of talk I like to hear," exclaimed Mr. Terry.

"And nobody's had the gumption to fight 'em," said Mr. Widgeon.

"It looks," said Austen, "as though it must come to a fight in the end. I
do not think they will listen to reason. I mean," he added, with a flash
of humour, "that they will listen to it, but not act upon it. Gentlemen,
I regret to have to say, for obvious reasons, something which you all
know, that my father is at the head of the Northeastern machine, which is
the Republican party organization."

There was a silence.

"You went again' him, and we honour you for it, Austen," said Mr.
Redbrook, at length.

"I want to say," Austen continued, "that I have tried to look at things
as Mr. Vane sees them, and that I have a good deal of sympathy for his
point of view. Conditions as they exist are the result of an evolution
for which no one man is responsible. That does not alter the fact that
the conditions are wrong. But the railroads, before they consolidated,
found the political boss in power, and had to pay him for favours. The
citizen was the culprit to start with, just as he is the culprit now,
because he does not take sufficient interest in his government to make it
honest. We mustn't blame the railroads too severely, when they grew
strong enough, for substituting their own political army to avoid being
blackmailed. Long immunity has reenforced them in the belief that they
have but one duty to pay dividends. I am afraid," he added, "that they
will have to be enlightened somewhat as Pharaoh was enlightened."

"Well, that's sense, too," said Mr. Widgeon; "I guess you're the man to
enlighten 'em."

"Moderate talk appeals to me," declared Mr. Jarley.

"And when that fails," said Mr. Terry, 'hard, tellin' blows."

"Don't lose track of the fact that we've got our eye on you," said Mr.
Emerson of Oxford, who had a blacksmith's grip, and came back to renew it
after he had put on his overshoes. He was the last to linger, and when
the door had closed on him Austen turned to Mr. Redbrook.

"Now what does all this mean?" he demanded.

"It means," said Mr. Redbrook, "that when the time comes, we want you