e a
couple of dollars for the sorrowing mothers and brothers and sisters by
way of a charity gift. But every time the workers come out in the only
way they know to protest against conditions which are unbearable, the
strong hand of the law is allowed to press heavily down on us.

"Public officials have only words of warning to us--warning that we must
be intensely orderly and intensely peaceable, and they have the
workhouse just back of all their warnings.

"I can't talk fellowship to you who are gathered here. Too much blood
has been spilled. I know from my experience it is up to the working
people to save themselves. The only way they can save themselves is by a
strong working-class movement."

Joe heard nothing further. There were several other speakers, but no
words penetrated to his brain. He felt as if he must stifle. He felt the
globe of earth cracking, breaking in two under his feet, and for the
first time in his life he was acutely aware of the division of humanity.
All through his career he had taken his middle-class position for
granted; he tacitly agreed that there were employees and employers; but
in his own case his camaraderie had hidden the cleavage. Now he saw a
double world--on the one side the moneyed owners, on the other the
crowded, scrambling, disorganized hordes of the toilers--each one of
them helpless, a victim, worked for all that was in him, and then flung
aside in the scrap heap. And behold, this horde was becoming
self-conscious, was beginning to organize, was finding a voice. And he,
who was one of the "good people," was rejected by this voice. He had
been "tried" and found wanting. He was on the other side of the fence.
And it was the fault of his class that fire horrors and all the chaos
and cruelty of industry arose. So that now the working people had found
that they must "save themselves."

In an agony of guilt again he felt what he had said to Myra: "From now
on I belong to those dead girls"--yes, and to their fellow-workers.
Suddenly it seemed to him that he must see Sally Heffer--that to her he
must carry the burden of his guilt--to her he must personally make
answer to the terrible accusations she had voiced. It was all at once,
as if only in this way could he go on living, that otherwise he would
end in the insanity of the mad-house or the insanity of suicide.

He was walking down the stairs with Fannie, and he was trembling.

"Do you know this Sally Heffer?"

"Know her? We