very true and good, and I have never forgotten.  When I came to the United States I hunted up the socialists.  I became a member of a section—­that was in the day of the S. L. P. Then later, when the split came, I joined the local of the S. P. I was working in a livery stable in San Francisco then.  That was before the Earthquake.  I have paid my dues for twenty-two years.  I am yet a member, and I yet pay my dues, though it is very secret now.  I will always pay my dues, and when the cooperative commonwealth comes, I will be glad.”

Left to myself, I proceeded to cook breakfast on the oil stove and to prepare my home.  Often, in the early morning, or in the evening after dark, Carlson would steal down to the refuge and work for a couple of hours.  At first my home was the tarpaulin.  Later, a small tent was put up.  And still later, when we became assured of the perfect security of the place, a small house was erected.  This house was completely hidden from any chance eye that might peer down from the edge of the hole.  The lush vegetation of that sheltered spot make a natural shield.  Also, the house was built against the perpendicular wall; and in the wall itself, shored by strong timbers, well drained and ventilated, we excavated two small rooms.  Oh, believe me, we had many comforts.  When Biedenbach, the German terrorist, hid with us some time later, he installed a smoke-consuming device that enabled us to sit by crackling wood fires on winter nights.

And here I must say a word for that gentle-souled terrorist, than whom there is no comrade in the Revolution more fearfully misunderstood.  Comrade Biedenbach did not betray the Cause.  Nor was he executed by the comrades as is commonly supposed.  This canard was circulated by the creatures of the Oligarchy.  Comrade Biedenbach was absent-minded, forgetful.  He was shot by one of our lookouts at the cave-refuge at Carmel, through failure on his part to remember the secret signals.  It was all a sad mistake.  And that he betrayed his Fighting Group is an absolute lie.  No truer, more loyal man ever labored for the Cause.*

* Search as we may through all the material of those times that has come down to us, we can find no clew to the Biedenbach here referred to.  No mention is made of him anywhere save in the Everhard Manuscript. *

For nineteen years now the refuge that I selected had been almost continuously occupied, and in all that time, with one exception, it has never been discovered by an outsider.  And yet it was only a quarter of a mile from Wickson’s hunting-lodge, and a short mile from the village of Glen Ellen.  I was able, always, to hear the morning and evening trains arrive and depart, and I used to set my watch by the whistle at the brickyards.*

* If the curious traveller will turn south from Glen Ellen, he will find himself on a boulevard that is identical with the old country road seven centuries ago.  A quarter of a mile