He thought nothing of the small questions of pay and personal interest which really made up the gist of the matter to the workmen. Perhaps also, though quite unwillingly, he had been led astray by Dennis Deventer. Dennis was an idealist also, and he saw the workmen's side of the question of private ownership. He would express these opinions with such dialectic sympathy that it almost seemed to the listener that he would be found one day persuading the owners of the factories to make over their possessions to the workers. His wife often reproached him with this treachery of words. "I know, I know, colleen," he would answer contritely, "'tis Irish Dennis hot in my brain that will get talking--then when I _do_ things Deventer the Scot sets the count right." "But, then, how about the people with whom you have talked, and who may be depending on your words?" "'Tis more the pity of them," he would say quizzically, "but, anyway, I am no worse than these young chicks that you have brought up." "That is nonsense, Dennis--you are the master and yet you talk like a 'red' as often as not--very likely when you have just sent Jack Jaikes to fix a new gun where it will command a street or a gate by which you may be attacked." Then Dennis would hold up his hand in token of surrender. It was all gospel truth, due perhaps as much as anything to the family habit of free discussion, when Dennis would take up a losing cause and champion it to the bitter end. There is, however, room to commiserate Keller Bey, from whom these things were hidden. He reported to the Commune of Aramon at its daily seances, of the favourable dispositions of the representative of the Company. Nay, during the space of a week, it was quite on the cards that the men should return to work on the basis of some half-understood (and wholly misunderstood) word of Dennis's, which Keller Bey and his Social Commission had taken to mean the admission of the men's right to a share in the half-yearly profits. Fortunately or unfortunately, another phrase at a succeeding interview had revealed that Dennis Deventer had no intention of committing his owners to anything. Nor had he the power. He had merely been willing to cast his own salary and commissions into the common fund gained by all the workers, and leave the total to be divided by the committee according to their idea of equity. But then, though this was exceedingly generous, Dennis was also a partner and a rich man. The men, except Keller Bey, were indignant at what they counted a cheat--a false offer. Very unjustly, for to Dennis Deventer the rights of labour extended to what a man earned. Those of property, equally important to him, included the defence of his wife's money invested in the Small Arms Company, and also what he had been able to put aside during the years of his strenuous life. This is how the great misunderstanding arose, and I do not see that any of the parties to it were free from blame--certainly not Dennis.