in the past. . . ."

"By all manner of means," cried Ramage. "Leaders--brains--will always
rise to the top; will always be rewarded more highly than mere manual
labour. . . . They will occupy more remunerative positions under the
State. . . . But the fruits of labour will only be for those who do
the work--be it with their hands or be it with their heads. The
profiteer must go; the private owner must go with his dole here and his
dole there, generally forced from him as the result of a strike. I
would be the last to say that there are not thousands of good
employers--but there are also thousands of bad ones, and now labour
refuses to run the risk any more."

"And what about depreciation--fresh plant? Where's the capital coming
from?"

"Why, the State. It requires very little imagination to see how easy
it would be to put away a certain sum each year for that. . . . A
question of how much you charge the final purchaser. . . . And the
profiteer goes out of the picture. . . . That's what we're aiming at;
that is what is coming. . . . No more men like the gentleman sitting
three tables away--just behind you; no more of the Baxters fattening on
sweated labour." His deep-set eyes were gleaming at the vision he saw,
and Vane felt a sense of futility.

"Even assuming your view is right, Mr. Ramage," he remarked slowly, "do
you really think that you, and the few like you, will ever hold the
mob? . . . You may make your new England, but you'll make it over
rivers of blood, unless we all of us--you, as well as we--see through
the glass a little less darkly than we do now. . . ."

"Every great movement has its price," returned the other, staring at
him gravely.

"Price!" Vane's laugh was short and bitter. "Have you ever seen a
battalion, Mr. Ramage, that has been caught under machine-gun fire?"

"And have _you_, Captain Vane, ever seen the hovels in which some of
our workers live?"

"And you really think that by exchanging private ownership for a
soulless bureaucracy you find salvation?" said Vane shortly. "You're
rather optimistic, aren't you, on the subject of Government
departments? . . ."

"I'm not thinking of this Government, Captain Vane," he remarked
quietly. He looked at his watch and rose. "I'm glad to have met you,"
he said holding out his hand. "It's the vested interest that is at the
root of the whole evil--that stands between the old order and the new.
Therefore the vested interest must g