corners. But the main reliance now as always was this educated
``army of education''-- these six thousand missionaries, each one
of them in resolute earnest and bent upon converting his
neighbors on either side, and across the street as well. A large
part of the time the leaders could spare from making a living was
spent in working at this army, in teaching it new arguments or
better ways of presenting old arguments, in giving the
enthusiasm, in talking with each individual soldier of it and
raising his standard of efficiency. Nor could the employers of
these soldiers of Victor Dorn's complain that they shirked their
work for politics. It was a fact that could not be denied that
the members of the Workingmen's League were far and away the best
workers in Remsen City, got the best pay, and earned it, drank
less, took fewer days off on account of sickness. One of the
sneers of the Kelly-House gang was that ``those Dorn cranks think
they are aristocrats, a little better than us common, ordinary
laboring men.'' And the sneer was not without effect. The truth
was, Dorn and his associates had not picked out the best of the
working class and drawn it into the League, but had made those
who joined the League better workers, better family men, better
citizens.

``We are saying that the working class ought to run things,''
Dorn said again and again in his talks, public and private.
``Then, we've got to show the community that we're fit to run
things. That is why the League expels any man who shirks or is a
drunkard or a crook or a bad husband and father.''

The great fight of the League--the fight that was keeping it from
power--was with the trades unions, which were run by secret