“We’re rich, we can afford a scratch-my-back-and-I’ll-scratch-yours tariff that keeps our prices up arbitrarily, that takes fifty dollars out of your pockets to put in ours for every dollar it puts into the national treasury.”

“If the tariff was repealed,” said Steve diffidently, “if we raised money for the National Government, just as we do for county government——­”

“Hush-sh!” said Mitchell, shocked.  “That’s High Treason—­that’s Unconstitutional!  Some one will hear you!  Then there’s another. You sell at a sacrifice to pay your debts.  If we get in debt that’s exactly what we won’t do.  A poor man goes broke, but a rich man goes bankrupt.  Ever think of that?

“That baby I spoke of will grow up, produce corn, cotton, cattle or copper, maybe—­but the net result of his life will be to enrich the rich.  If, by any means—­industry, opportunity, invention, speculation, dishonesty, chance or inheritance—­he gets on top, then the workers will be working for him by the same law.  The fact remains that every dollar’s worth of betterment in the country increases the value of city property one dollar, without effort to the owner.  A city is an artesian well.  Take it from me, Thompson, a man of your ability ought to make connections and get your little tin pail under.”

Chapter V

    “A man so various that he seemed to be
    Not one, but all mankind’s epitome.”

Thompson sat in his room alone, meditating on Mitchell, statesman and Political Economist.  On the table lay his letter of introduction and his bad “Souvenir” dollar.

“The meeting will please come to order!” he said, rapping the table smartly.  “The Gentleman from Montana has the floor.”

“I move you, Mr. Chairman,” said the Gentleman from Montana, “that the letter of introduction be laid upon the table, and that this House do now go into Committee of putting the other fellows in the Hole.”

No objection being heard, this was done.  Steve stared at the tabled letter with a puzzled frown.

“Gentlemen, the Chair awaits your pleasure,” he announced, at last.  “Have you any suggestions to make?”

The Gentleman from Montana again obtained recognition.

“Mr. Speaker, I see here present an ex-member, my alter ego, Mr. Reuben Rubber-Neck, who once parted with six months’ wages on another man’s game.  Mr. Rubber-Neck is a graduate of the celebrated and expensive school of Experience, of which it is written that a large and influential class will learn of no other.  As an ex-Member, he is entitled to the privilege of the floor.  I, for one, would like to have his counsels at this juncture.”

Thus appealed to, Mr. Rubber-Neck got stumblingly to his feet with a gawky and timid demeanor.