desperate master nags him on in the revolution that is coming.



VII.

The mammoth hotel where the parasite of greater or lesser degree
sojourns, where the popping corks of the costly imported champagne is
heard, can still be a hotel, but the profits of its millions of
invested capital must no longer he taken away by one or two men and it
therefore must have many more owners than it has now. It, too, must go
to the people, if its millionaire owner can find no more relations to
share with and begins to suspect his "friends" of having had a hand in
bringing about the upheaval. And if the "plain" people never expect to
enjoy the material results of the inventive wit of man as they are
focused within its luxurious interior, they at least have some reason
for being satisfied when they know that the profits will stay where they
were made and help those who made them. This reference to hotels brings
to mind a corroborative fact that proves the charge we make when we say
that all these colossal fortunes are nothing more than the accumulations
of able rascality of some form or other: bilking, cornering, lobbying,
watering stock, or charging all the traffic will bear.

The Palace Hotel in San Francisco was built by a speculator and floater
of mining shares, and cost millions that he cashed in, after cleaning
out the simple minded laborer and servant girl, whom he deluded, with
all the art known to his tribe, into believing that there was still more
for their rainy day if they would only invest the little they already
had.