In the past we've been
annoyed a little from time to time. But they thought us hardly
worth bothering with. In the future we will have to fight.''
``I hope they will prosecute us,'' said Selma. ``Then, we'll
grow the faster.''
``Not if they do it intelligently,'' replied Victor. ``An
intelligent persecution--if it's relentless enough --always
succeeds. You forget that this isn't a world of moral ideas but
of force. . . . I am afraid of Dick Kelly. He is something more
than a vulgar boss. He SEES. My hope is that he won't be able
to make the others see. I saw him a while ago. He was extremely
polite to me--more so than he ever has been before. He is up to
something. I suspect----''
Victor paused, reflecting. ``What?'' asked Selma eagerly.
``I suspect that he thinks he has us.'' He rose, preparing to go
out. ``Well--if he has--why, he has. And we shall have to begin
all over again.''
``How stupid they are!'' exclaimed the girl. ``To fight us who
are simply trying to bring about peaceably and sensibly what's
bound to come about anyhow.''
``Yes--the rain is bound to come,'' said Victor. ``And we say,
`Here's an umbrella and there's the way to shelter.' And they
laugh at OUR umbrella and, with the first drops plashing on their
foolish faces, deny that it's going to rain.''
The Workingmen's League, always first in the field with its
ticket, had been unusually early that year. Although it was only
the first week in August and the election would not be until the
third of October, the League had nominated.
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