enblatt is a
shrewd man. He will be a great man in this city. He will be your
lord some day."

The eyes of both men gleamed at his jibes. "Aha," the stranger continued,
"he will make you serve him by his money. Canada is, indeed, a free
country, but there will be master and slaves here, too."

It was a sore spot to the men, for the mastery of Rosenblatt was no
imagination, but a grim reality. It was with difficulty that any
man could get a good job unless by Rosenblatt's agency. It was
Rosenblatt who contracted for the Galician labour. One might hate
Rosenblatt, or despise him, but it was impossible to ignore him.

"What say you, my brothers," said the stranger, "shall we attend
this feast?"

The men were eager to go. Why should Rosenblatt stand in their way?
Were they not good friends of Jacob and Anka? Was not every home in
the colony open to a stranger, and especially a stranger of rank?
Simon swallowed his pride and led the way to Paulina's house.

There was no need of a guide to the house where the feasting was in
progress. The shouting and singing of the revellers hailed them
from afar, and as they drew near, the crowd about the door
indicated the house of mirth. Joseph and Simon were welcomed with
overflowing hospitality and mugs of beer. But when they turned to
introduce the stranger, they found that he had disappeared, nor
could they discover him anywhere in the crowd. In their search
for him, they came upon Rosenblatt, who at once assailed them.

"How come you Slovaks here?" he cried contemptuously.

"Where the trough is, there the pigs will come," laughed
one of his satellites.

"I come to do honour to my friend, Jacob Wassyl," said
Simon in a loud voice.

"Of course," cried a number of friendly voices. "And why not?
That is quite right."

"Jacob Wassyl wants none of you here," shouted Rosenblatt
over the crowd.

"Who speaks for Jacob Wassyl?" cried a voice. It was Jacob himself,
standing in the door, wet with sweat, flushed with dancing and
exhilarated with the beer and with all the ardours of his wedding
day. For that day at least, Jacob owned the world. "What?" he
cried, "is it my friend Simon Ketzel and my friend Joseph Pinkas?"

"We were not invited to come to your wedding, Jacob Wassyl,"
replied Simon, "but we desired to honour your bride and yourself."

"Aye, and so you shall. You are welcome, Simon Ketzel. You are
welcome, Joseph Pinkas. Who says you are not?" he continued,
turning