ow down and are gouging him. This
is the time THEY got gouged, and that's all there is to it. Talk about
mollycoddles! Son, those same fellows would steal crusts from starving
men and pull gold fillings from the mouths of corpses, yep, and squawk
like Sam Scratch if some blamed corpse hit back. They're all tarred
with the same brush, little and big. Look at your Sugar Trust--with
all its millions stealing water like a common thief from New York City,
and short-weighing the government on its phoney scales. Morality and
civic duty! Son, forget it."

CHAPTER VIII

Daylight's coming to civilization had not improved him. True, he wore
better clothes, had learned slightly better manners, and spoke better
English. As a gambler and a man-trampler he had developed remarkable
efficiency. Also, he had become used to a higher standard of living,
and he had whetted his wits to razor sharpness in the fierce,
complicated struggle of fighting males. But he had hardened, and at the
expense of his old-time, whole-souled geniality. Of the essential
refinements of civilization he knew nothing. He did not know they
existed. He had become cynical, bitter, and brutal. Power had its
effect on him that it had on all men. Suspicious of the big
exploiters, despising the fools of the exploited herd, he had faith
only in himself. This led to an undue and erroneous exaltation of his
ego, while kindly consideration of others--nay, even simple
respect--was destroyed, until naught was left for him but to worship at
the shrine of self. Physically, he was not the man of iron muscles who
had come down out of the Arctic. He did not exercise sufficiently, ate
more than was good for him, and drank altogether too much. His muscles
were getting flabby, and his tailor called attention to his increasing
waistband. In fact, Daylight was developing a definite paunch. This
physical deterioration was manifest likewise in his face. The lean
Indian visage was suffering a city change. The slight hollows in the
cheeks under the high cheek-bones had filled out. The beginning of
puff-sacks under the eyes was faintly visible. The girth of the neck
had increased, and the first crease and fold of a double chin were
becoming plainly discernible. The old effect of asceticism, bred of
terrific hardships and toil, had vanished; the features had become
broader and heavier, betraying all the stigmata of the life he lived,
advertising the man's self-i