THAT was what made the League
so dangerous--and so steadily prosperous.
The chairman, Thomas Colman, the cooper, was opening the meeting
in a speech which was an instance of how well a man of no
platform talent can acquit himself when he believes something and
believes it is his duty to convey it to his fellow-men. Victor
Dorn, to be the fourth speaker and the orator of the evening, was
standing at the rear of the platform partially concealed by the
crowd of men and women leaders of the party grouped behind
Colman. As always at the big formal demonstrations of the
League, Victor was watching every move. This evening his anxiety
was deeper than ever before. His trained political sagacity
warned him that, as he had suggested to Selma, the time of his
party's first great crisis was at hand. No movement could become
formidable with out a life and death struggle, when its aim
frankly was to snatch power from the dominant class and to place
it where that class could not hope to prevail either by direct
means of force or by its favorite indirect means of bribery.
What would Kelly do? What would be his stroke at the very life
of the League?-- for Victor had measured Kelly and knew he was
not one to strike until he could destroy.
Like every competent man of action, Victor had measured his own
abilities, and had found that they were to be relied upon. But
the contest between him and Kelly-- the contest in the last
ditch--was so appallingly unequal.
Pages:
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203