."

"That's all right," answered Tutt. "But how about progress?"

"Why, that is simple," replied his partner. "The man who refuses to bow
to habit, tradition, law--who thinks for himself and acts for himself,
who evolves new theories, who has the courage of his convictions and
stakes his life and liberty upon them--that man is either a statesman, a
prophet or a criminal. And in the end he is either hailed as a hero and
a liberator or is burned, cast into prison or crucified."

Tutt looked interested.

"Well, now," he returned, helping himself from the box, "I never thought
of it, but, of course, it's true. Your proposition is that progress
depends on development and development depends on new ideas. If the new
idea is contrary to those of society it is probably criminal. If its
inventor puts it across, gets away with it, and persuades society that
he is right he is a leader in the march of progress. If he fails he goes
to jail. Hence the relationship between crime and progress. Why not say
that crime is progress?"

"If successful it is," answered Mr. Tutt. "But the moment it is
successful it ceases to be crime."

"I get you," nodded Tutt. "Here to-day it is a crime to kill one's
grandmother; but I recall reading that among certain savage tribes to do
so is regarded as a highly virtuous act. Now if I convince society that
to kill one's grandmother is a good thing it ceases to be a crime.
Society has progressed. I am a public benefactor."

"And if you don't persuade society you go to the chair," remarked Mr.
Tutt laconically.

"To use another illustration," exclaimed Tutt, warming to the subject,
"the private ownership of property at the present time is recognized and
protected by the law, but if we had a Bolshevik government it might be a
crime to refuse to share one's property with others."

"In that case if you took your share of another's property by force,
instead of being a thief you would be a Progressive," smiled his
partner.

Tutt robbed his forehead.

"Looking at it that way, you know," said he, "makes it seem as if
criminals were rather to be admired."

"Well, some of them are, and a great multitude of them certainly were,"
answered Mr. Tutt. "All the early Christian martyrs were criminals in
the sense that they were law-breakers."

"And Martin Luther," suggested Tutt.

"And Garibaldi," added Mr. Tutt.

"And George Washington--maybe?" hazarded the junior partner.

Mr. Tutt shrugged his high