olcano and shows us what
is in it. It is a danger signal!

We are all indicted and must stand our trial. There rests upon us the
obligation to ascertain the facts. The author of "The Jungle" lived in
Packingtown for months, and the eminently respectable publishers who are
now issuing the book sent a shrewd lawyer to Chicago to report as to
whether the statements in it were exaggerated, and his report confirmed
the assertions of the author.

This book is a call to immediate action.

The Lithuanian hero found his solution of the problems suggested in
Socialism. The solution lies either in that direction or in something
better, and it behooves those who warn us against Socialistic
experiments to tell us if they know of any other effective remedy.
Surely all thoughtful men should study these theories of social
redemption and learn why their advocates claim that putting them in
practice would modify or abolish the evils of our modern conditions.

"The masters, lords and rulers of all lands," the thinkers and workers
of our time must speedily give themselves to the understanding and
application of some adequate remedy, or there will be blood, woe and
tears almost without end, "when this dumb terror shall reply to God,
after the silence of the centuries."

FOOTNOTE:

[2] Genuine or not genuine: we live right now in a democracy. If, in
spite of that, such diabolical crimes as Sinclair describes them are
committed daily, then this only proves that democracy is no panacea for
them. Why should it, if criminals of the Armour kind realize profits out
of their wholesale poisoning of such dimensions that they can easily buy
all the glory of the people's sovereignty.--Editor.

THE GAME IS UP.

By SADAKICHI HARTMANN.

"HELLO, Morrison, may I come in?" The door stood slightly ajar.

Morrison came to the door--the complexion of his face was sallow and his
eyes had a peculiar look--he recognized his visitor, hesitated for a
moment whether he should admit him, then opened the door and made a sort
of mock courtesy.

"Cleaning up?" the tall, lean man asked as he entered the little hall
room.

"Yes," and a wistful smile glided over Morrison's pale face; "cleaning
up for good."

The room had a peculiar appearance. There was no disorder and yet a lot
of things were lying about; it looked as if the lodger intended to go
away on a long journey and had tried to straighten up matters previous
to his departure. The visitor g