CHAPTER 12
From The New Catechism
Question: What is the whole duty of man?
Answer: To succeed.
Q. What is success?
A. Success is being a Captain of Industry.
Q. How may one become a Captain of Industry?
A. By stacking in his barns the hay made by others while the sun shines.
Q. But is this not theft?
A. Not if done legally and respectably on a large scale. It is high finance.
THE REBEL AND THE UNDESIRABLE CITIZEN TALK TREASON. THE HERO HAS PRIVATECONVERSE WITH A GREAT PIONEER OF CIVILIZATION
Part 1
Jeff never for a day desisted from his fight to win back for the peoplethe self rule that had been wrested from them for selfish purposes bycorporate greed. "Government by the people" was the watchword he keptat the head of his editorial column. Better a bad government that isrepresentative than a good one emanating from the privileged few, hemaintained with conviction.
To his office came one day Oscar Marchant, the little, half-educatedSocialist poet, coughing from the exertion of the stairs he had justclimbed. He had come begging, the consumptive presently explained.
"Remember Sobieski, the Polish Jew?"
Jeff smiled. "Of course. Philosophical anarchy used to be his remedy."
"Starvation is the one he's trying now," returned Marchant grimly. "He'shad typhoid and lost his job. The rent's due and they'll be turned outtomorrow. He's got a wife and two kids."
Farnum asked questions briefly and pulled out his check book. "TellSobieski not to worry," he said as he handed over a check. "I'll senda reporter out there and we'll make an appeal through the _World_. Ofcourse his own name won't be used. No one will know who it really is.We'll look out for him till he's on his feet again."
Marchant gave him the best he had. "You're a pretty good Socialist, eventhough you don't know it."
"Am I?"
"But you're blind as a bat. The things you fight for in the _World_don't get to the bottom of what ails us."
"We've got to forge the tools of freedom before we can use them, haven'twe?"
"You're all for patching up the rotten system we've got. It will neverdo."
"Great changes are most easily brought about under the old forms. Men'sminds in the mass move slowly. They can see only a little truth at atime."
"Because they are blinded by ignorance and selfishness. Get at bottomfacts, Farnum. What's the one great crime?"
Without a moment's hesitation Jeff answered. "Poverty. All other crimesare paltry beside that."
Marchant cocked himself up on the window seat with his legs doubledunder him tailor fashion. "Why?"
"Because it stamps out hope and love and aspiration, all that is fineand true in life."
"Exactly. Men ought to love their work. But how can they love that whichis always associated in their minds with a denial of justice? Is itlikely that men will work better under a system whereby they arecondemned in advance to failure than under one standing rationally for ajust and fair division of the fruits of labor? I tell you, Farnum, underpresent conditions the Juggernaut of progress is forever wastinghumanity."
"I've always thought it a pity that the mainsprings of work should befear and greed instead of hope and love," Jeff agreed.
"Why is it that poverty coexists with wealth increasing so rapidly? Whyis it that productive power has been so enormously developed withoutlightening the burdens of labor?"
Marchant's eyes were starlike in their earnestness. He had a passionfor humanity that neither want nor disease could quench, and with ita certain gift of expression street oratory had brought out. Even inprivate conversation he had got into the way of declaiming. But Jeffknew he was no empty talker. All that he had he literally gave to thepoor.
"Because the whole spirit of business life is wrong," Farnum responded.
"Of course it's wrong. It's a survival of the law of the jungle, oftooth and fang. Its motto is dog eat dog. We all work under the rule ofget and grab. What's the result of this higgledypiggledy system? Oneman starves and another has indigestion. That's the trouble with Verdento-day. Some of us haven't enough and others have too much. They takefrom us what we earn. That's the whole cause of poverty. The Malthusiantheory is all wrong. It's not nature, but man that is to blame."
Farnum knew the little Socialist was right so far. Here in Verden, underthe forms of freedom, was the very essence of slavery. All the productof labor was taken from it except enough to sustain a mere animalexistence. Something was wrong in a world where a man begs in vain forwork to support his family. Given proper conditions, men would not riseby trampling each other down, but by lending a hand to the unfortunate.The effect of efficiency would be to make things easier for the weak.The reward of service would be more service.
"The principle of the old order is dead," Marchant went on, wagging histhin forefinger at Jeff. "The whole social fabric is made up of lies,compromises, injustice. The only reason it has hung together so longis that people have been trained to think along certain lines like showanimals. But they're waking up. Look at Germany. Look at England. Whatthe plutocrats call the menace of Socialism is everywhere. Now thatevery worker knows he is being robbed of what he earns, how long doyou think he will carry the capitalistic system on his back? From thebeginning of the world we have tried it. With what result? An injusticethat is staggering, a waste that is appalling, an inhumanity that isdeadening."
Jeff let a hand fall lightly on his shoulder. "Of course it's all wrong.We know that. But can you show me how to make it right, except out ofthe hearts of men growing slowly wiser and better?"
"Why slowly?" demanded Marchant. "Why not to-day while we're still aliveto see the smiles of men and women and children made glad? You alwayswant to begin at the wrong end. I tell you that you can't change men'shearts until you change the conditions under which they live."
"And I tell you that you can't change the conditions until you changemen's hearts," Jeff answered with his wistful smile.
"Rubbish! The only way to change the hearts of most plutocrats is tohit them over the head with a two-by-four. Smug respectability is in thesaddle, and it knows it's right. We'll get nowhere until we smash thisiniquitous system to smithereens."
"So you want to substitute one system for another. You think you caneliminate by legal enactment all this fatty degeneration of greed andselfishness that has incased our souls. I'm afraid it will be a slowerprocess. We must free ourselves from within. I believe we are movingtoward some sort of a socialistic state. No man with eyes in his headcan help seeing that. But we'll move a step at a time, and only so fastas the love and altruism inside us can be organized into external law."
"No. You'll wake up some morning and find that this whole capitalisticorganization has crumbled in the night, fallen to pieces from dry rot."
Jeff might not agree with him, but he knew that Marchant, dreamer andincoherent poet, his heart aflame with zeal for humanity, was far nearerthe truth of life than the smug complacent Pharisees that fattened fromthe toil of the helpless many who could do nothing but suffer in dumbsilence.
Part 2
As the months passed Jeff grew in stature with the people of the state.In spite of his energy he was always fair. The plain truth he felt to bea better argument than the tricks of a demagogue.
A rational common sense was to be found in all his advice. Add to thisthat he had no personal profit to seek, no political axe to grind, andwas always transparent as a child. More and more Verden recognizedhim as the one most conspicuous figure in the state dedicated touncompromising war against the foes of the Republic.
Those who knew him best liked his humility, his good humor, thegentleness that made him tolerant of the men he must fight. His poiselifted him above petty animosities, and the daily sand-stings of lifedid not disturb his serenity.
Everywhere his propaganda gained ground. People's Power League
s wereformed with a central steering committee at Verden. Politicians withtheir ears close to the ground heard rumbles of the coming storm. Theybegan to notice that reputable business men, prominent lawyers notaffiliated with corporations, and even a few educators who had shakenaway the timidity of their class were lining up to support Jeff's freaklegislation. It began to look as if one of those periodical uprisings ofthe people was about to sweep the state.
Big Tim found his ward workers met persistently by the same questionsfrom their ordinarily docile following. "Why shouldn't we tie strings toour representatives so as to keep them from betraying us?... Why can'twe make laws ourselves in emergency and kill bad laws the legislaturemakes?... What's the matter with taking away some of the power from ourrepresentatives who have abused it?"
In the city election O'Brien went down to defeat. Only fragments of histicket were saved from the general wreckage. Next day Joe Powers wiredJames Farnum to join him immediately at Chicago.
"I'm going to put you in charge of the political field out there," thegreat man announced, his gray granite eyes fastened on the young lawyer."Ned Merrill won't do. Neither will O'Brien. Between them they've made amess of things."
"I don't know that it is their fault, except indirectly. One of thosepopulistic waves swept over the city."
"Why didn't they know what was going to happen? Why didn't they let meknow? That's what I pay them for."
"A child could have foreseen it, but O'Brien wouldn't believe his eyes.He's been giving Verden an administration with too much graft. Thepeople got tired of it."
"What were Merrill and Frome up to? Why did they permit it?" demandedPowers impatiently.
"They were looking out for their franchises. To get the machine'ssupport they had to give O'Brien a free hand."
"If necessary you had better eliminate Big Tim. Or at least put him andhis gang in the background. Make the machine respectable so that goodcitizens can indorse it."
James nodded agreement. "I've been thinking about that. The thing canbe done. A business men's movement from inside the party to purify it. Areorganization with new men in charge. That sort of thing."
"Exactly. And how about the state?"
"Things don't look good to me."
"Why not?"
"This initiative and referendum idea is spreading."
Powers drove his fist into a pile of papers on the desk. "Stop it. Igive you carte blanche. Spend as much as you like. But win. What good isa lobby to me if those hare-brained farmers can kill every bill we passthrough their grafting legislature?"
The possibilities grew on Farnum. "I'll send Professor Perkins of VerdenUniversity to New Zealand to prepare a paper showing the thing is afailure there. I'll have every town in the state thoroughly canvassed bylecturers and speakers against the bill. I'll bombard the farmers withliterature."
"What about the newspapers?"
"We control most of them. At Verden only the _World_ is against us."
"Buy it."
"Can't be bought. Its editorial columns are not for sale."
"Anything can be bought if you've got the price. Who owns it?"
"A Captain Chunn. He made his money in Alaska. My cousin is the editor.He is the real force back of it."
"Does the paper have any influence?"
"A great deal."
"I've heard of your cousin. A crack-brained Socialist, I understand."
"You'll find he's a long way from that," James denied.
"Whatever he is, buy him," ordered Powers curtly.
The young man shook his head. "Can't be done. He doesn't want the thingsyou have to offer."
"Every man has his price. Find his, and buy him."
James shook his head decisively. "Absolutely impossible. He's anidealist and an altruist."
Powers snorted impatiently. "Talk English, young man, and I'llunderstand you."
Farnum had heard Joe Powers was a man who would stand plain talk fromthose who had the courage to give it him. His cool eyes hardened. Whynot? For once the old gray pirate, chief of the robber buccaneers whorode on their predatory way superior to law, should see himself as JeffFarnum saw him.
"What I mean is that the things he holds most important can't be boughtwith dollars and cents. He believes in justice and fair play. He thinksthe strong ought to bear the burdens of the weak.
"He has a passion to uplift humanity. You can't understand him becauseit isn't possible for you to conceive of a man whose first thought isalways for what is equitable."
"Just as I thought, a Socialist dreamer and demagogue," pronouncedPowers scornfully.
"Merrill and Frome have been thinking of him just as you do." Jameswaved his hand toward the newspaper in front of the railroad king. "Withwhat result our election shows."
"Well, where does his power lie? How can you break it?" the old manasked.
"He is a kind of brother to the lame and the halt all over the state.Among the poor and the working classes he has friends without number.They believe in him as a patriot fighting for them against the foes ofthe country."
"Do you call me a foe of the country, young man?" Powers wanted to knowgrimly.
"Not I," laughed James. "Why should I quarrel with my bread and jam? Ifyou had ever done me the honor to read any of my speeches you would seethat I refer to you as a Pioneer of Civilization and a Builder for theFuture. But my view doesn't happen to be universal. I was trying to showyou how the man with the dinner pail feels."
"Who fills his dinner pails?"
James met his frown with a genial eye. "There's a difference of opinionabout that, sir. According to the economics of Verden University youfill them. According to the _World_ editorials it's the other way. Theyfill yours."
"Hmp! And what's your personal opinion? Am I a robber of labor?"
"I think that the price of any success worth while is paid for in thefailure of others. You win because you're strong, sir. That's the lawof the game. It's according to the survival of the fittest that you'rewhere you are. If you had hesitated some other man would have trampledyou down. It's a case of wolf eat wolf."
The old railroad builder laughed harshly. This was the first time in hisexperience that a subordinate had so analyzed him to his face.
"So I'm a wolf, am I?"
"In one sense of the word you're not that at all, sir. You're a greatbuilder. You've done more for the Northwest than any man living.You couldn't have done it if you had been squeamish. I hold the endjustifies the means. What you've got is yours because you've won it. Menwho do a great work for the public are entitled to great rewards."
"Glad to know you've got more sense than that fool cousin of yours. Nowgo home and beat him. I don't care how you do it, just so that youget results. Spend what money you need, but make good, young man--makegood."
"I'll do my best," James promised.
"All I demand is that you win. I'm not interested in the method you use.But put that cousin of yours out of the demagogue business if you haveto shanghai him."
James laughed. "That might not be a bad way to get rid of him till afterthe election. The word would leak out that he had been bought off."
The old buccaneer's eyes gleamed. He was as daring a lawbreaker as everbuilt or wrecked a railroad. "Have you the nerve, young man?"
"When I'm working for you, sir," retorted James coolly.
"What do you mean by that?"
"If I've studied your career to any purpose, sir, one thing stands outpretty clear. You haven't the slightest respect for law merely as law.When it's on your side you're a stickler for it; when it isn't you saynothing, but brush it aside as if it did not exist. In either case youget what you want."
"I'm glad you've noticed that last point. Now we'll have luncheon." Hesmiled grimly. "I daresay you'll enjoy it no less because I stole itfrom the horny hand of labor, by your mad cousin's way of it."
"Not a bit," answered James cheerfully.