only one eye, and still would not permit any criticism of his gracious
employers. Against such stupidity there was nothing to be done. There
was no use wasting a single word on him.

The two remained sitting for a while in silence. Bogdan filled his pipe
carefully and deliberately, and Mihaly watched him with interest.

"Are you going to the castle?" the humpback asked cautiously, when the
pipe was at last lit.

John Bogdan was well aware just what the hateful creature was aiming at.
He knew him. A Socialist--that's what he was, one of those good-for-
nothings who take the bread out of poor people's mouths by dinning a lot
of nonsense into their ears, just like a mean dog who snaps at the hand
that feeds him. He had made a good living as foreman in the brickyard,
and as thanks he had incited all the workmen against the owner, Bogdan's
master, until they demanded twice as much wages, and were ready to set
fire to the castle on all four corners. Once Mihaly had tried his luck
with him, too. He had wanted to make his master out a bad man. But this
time he had bucked up against the right person. A box on his right ear
and a box on his left ear, and then a good sound kick--that was the
answer to keep him from ever again trying to make a Socialist of John
Bogdan, one of those low fellows who know no God or fatherland.

Mihaly moved on the bench uneasily, every now and then scrutinizing his
neighbor from the side. At last he plucked up courage and said suddenly:

"They'll probably be glad up there that you are back. Your arms are
still whole, and they need people in the factory."