The Price | Page 3

rank, birth, feudal tyranny went
down in fire and blood in France a century ago: the aristocracy of
money will go down here, when the time is ripe."
"That is good anarchy, but mighty bad ethics. I didn't know you had
reached that stage of the disease, Kenneth."
"Call it what you please; names don't change facts. Listen"--Griswold
leaned upon the table; his eyes grew hard and the blue in them became
metallic--"For more than a month I have tramped the streets of this
cursed city begging--yes, that is the word--begging for work of any
kind that would suffice to keep body and soul together; and for more
than half of that time I have lived on one meal a day. That is what we
have come to; we of the submerged majority. And that isn't all. The
wage-worker himself, when he is fortunate enough to find a chance to
earn his crust, is but a serf; a chattel among the other possessions of
some fellow man who has acquired him in the plutocratic redistribution

of the earth and the fulness thereof."
Bainbridge applauded in dumb show.
"Turn it loose and ease the soul-sickness, old man," he said indulgently.
"I know things haven't been coming your way, lately. What is your
remedy?"
Griswold was fairly started now, and ridicule was as fuel to the flame.
"The money-gatherers have set us the example. They have made us
understand that might is right; that he who has may hold--if he can. The
answer is simple: there is enough and to spare for all, and it belongs to
all; to him who sows the seed and waters it, as well as to him who reaps
the harvest. That is a violent remedy, you will say. So be it: it is the
only one that will cure the epidemic of greed. There is an alternative,
but it is only theoretical."
"And that?"
"It may be summed up in seven words: 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as
thyself.' When the man who employs--and rules--uses the power that
money gives him to succor his fellow man, the revolution will be
indefinitely postponed. But as I say, it's only a theory."
Bainbridge glanced at his watch.
"I must be going," he said. "The Adelantado drops down the river at
eleven. But in passing I'll venture a little prophecy. You're down on
your luck now, and a bit hot-hearted in consequence; but some day you
will strike it right and come out on top. When you do, you'll be a hard
master; tattoo that on your arm somewhere so you'll be reminded of it."
Griswold had risen with his entertainer, and he put his hands on the
table.
"God do so to me, and more, if I am, Bainbridge," he said soberly.
"That's all right: when the time comes, you just remember my little

fortune-telling stunt. But before we shake hands, let's get back to
concrete things for a minute or two. How are you fixed for the present,
and what are you going to do for the future?"
Griswold's smile was not pleasant to look at.
"I am 'fixed' to run twenty-four hours longer, thanks to your hospitality.
For that length of time I presume I shall continue to conform to what
we have been taught to believe is the immutable order of things. After
that----"
He paused, and Bainbridge put the question. "Well, after that; what
then?"
"Then, if the chance to earn it is still denied me, and I am sufficiently
hungry, I shall stretch forth my hand and take what I need."
Bainbridge fished in his pocket and took out a ten-dollar bank-note.
"Do that first," he said, offering Griswold the money.
The proletary smiled and shook his head.
"No; not to keep from going hungry--not even to oblige you,
Bainbridge. It is quite possible that I shall end by becoming a robber, as
you paraphrasers would put it, but I sha'n't begin on my friends.
Good-night, and a safe voyage to you."

II
SPINDRIFT
The fruit steamer Adelantado, outward bound, was shuddering to the
first slow revolutions of her propeller when Bainbridge turned the key
in the door of the stuffy little state-room to which he had been directed,
and went on deck.
The lines had been cast off and the ship was falling by imperceptible

inches away from her broadside berth at the fruit wharf. Bainbridge
heard the distance-softened clang of a gong; the tremulous murmur of
the screw became more pronounced, and the vessel forged ahead until
the current caught the outward-swinging prow. Five minutes later the
Adelantado had circled majestically in mid-stream and was passing the
lights of the city in review as she steamed at half-speed down the river.
Bainbridge had no mind to go back to the stuffy state-room, late