"
By an effort of will McIver strove to throw off the feeling that
possessed him. He spoke as one determined to assert himself. "We cannot
recognize the rights of Jake Vodell and his lawless followers to
dictate to us in our business. It would mean ruin, not only of our
industries, but of our government."
"Exactly so," agreed the Interpreter. "And yet, sir, you claim for
yourself the right to live by the same spirit of imperialism that
animates Vodell. You make the identical class distinction that he
makes. You appeal to the same class intolerance and hatred. You and
Jake Vodell have together brought about this industrial war in
Millsburgh. The community itself--labor unions and business men
alike--is responsible for tolerating the imperialism that you and this
alien agitator, in opposition to each other, advocate. The community is
paying the price."
The factory owner flushed. "Of course you would say these things to
Jake Vodell."
"I do," returned the Interpreter, gently.
"Oh, you _are_ in touch with him then?"
"He comes here sometimes. He is coming this afternoon--at four o'clock.
Will you not stay and meet him, Mr. McIver?" McIver hesitated. He
decided to ignore the invitation. With more respect in his manner than
he had so far shown, he said, courteously, "May I ask why Jake Vodell
comes to you?"
The Interpreter replied, sadly, as one who accepts the fact of his
failure, "For the same reason that McIver came.
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