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The Conflict by David Graham Phillips
page 47 of 399 (11%)
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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