The Conflict by David Graham Phillips
page 47 of 399 (11%)
page 47 of 399 (11%)
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Anyhow, he's helping the strikers all he can--and fighting US.
You know, your father and my father's estate are the two biggest owners of the street railways.'' ``I must get his paper,'' said Jane. ``I'll have a lot of fun reading the truth about us.'' But David wasn't listening. He was deep in thought. After a while he said: ``It's amazing--and splendid-- and terrible, what power he's getting in our town. Victor Dorn, I mean.'' ``Always Victor Dorn,'' mocked Jane. ``When he started--twelve years ago as a boy of twenty, just out of college and working as a carpenter --when he started, he was alone and poor, and without friends or anything. He built up little by little, winning one man at a time--the fellow working next him on his right, then the chap working on his left--in the shop--and so on, one man after another. And whenever he got a man he held him--made him as devoted-- as--as fanatical as he is himself. Now he's got a band of nearly a thousand. There are ten thousand voters in this town. So, he's got only one in ten. But what a thousand!'' Jane was gazing out into the rain, her eyes bright, her lips parted. ``Are you listening?'' asked Hull. ``Or, am I boring you?'' ``Go on,'' said she. |
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