orkers were devoid of the power of
reasoning. If these people were not mentally deficient they would of
their own accord have swept this silly system away long ago. It would
not have been necessary for anyone to teach them that it was wrong.

Why, even those who were successful or wealthy could not be sure that
they would not eventually die of want. In every workhouse might be
found people who had at one time occupied good positions; and their
downfall was not in every case their own fault.

No matter how prosperous a man might be, he could not be certain that
his children would never want for bread. There were thousands living
in misery on starvation wages whose parents had been wealthy people.

As Owen strode rapidly along, his mind filled with these thoughts, he
was almost unconscious of the fact that he was wet through to the skin.
He was without an overcoat, it was pawned in London, and he had not yet
been able to redeem it. His boots were leaky and sodden with mud and
rain.

He was nearly home now. At the corner of the street in which he lived
there was a newsagent's shop and on a board outside the door was
displayed a placard:

TERRIBLE DOMESTIC TRAGEDY
DOUBLE MURDER AND SUICIDE

He went in to buy a copy of the paper. He was a frequent customer
here, and as he entered the shopkeeper greeted him by name.

'Dreadful weather,' he remarked as he handed Owen the paper. 'It makes
things pretty bad in your line, I suppose?'

'Yes,' responded Owen, 'there's a lot of men idle, but fortunately I
happen to be working inside.'

'You're one of the lucky ones, then,' said the other. 'You know,
there'll be a job here for some of 'em as soon as the weather gets a
little better. All the outside of this block is going to be done up.
That's a pretty big job, isn't it?'

'Yes,' returned Owen. 'Who's going to do it?'

'Makehaste and Sloggit. You know, they've got a place over at Windley.'

'Yes, I know the firm,' said Owen, grimly. He had worked for them once
or twice himself.

'The foreman was in here today,' the shopkeeper went on. 'He said
they're going to make a start Monday morning if it's fine.'

'Well, I hope it will be,' said Owen, 'because things are very quiet
just now.'

Wishing the other 'Good nigh', Owen again proceeded homewards.

Half-way down the street he paused irresolutely: he was thinking of the
news he had just heard and of Jack Linde