"Comrades," he began, "the time has come for us to make good our faith in one another. You have proven yourselves brave and faithful in our struggle with the infamies of the system of capitalism. We call now for the heroes and heroines of actual work. We are entering, under the most favourable auspices, on the most important experiment yet made in the social history of the world. We are going to prove that mankind is one vast brotherhood--that love, not greed, can rule this earth. "In our temporary organization we wish to outline the forms on which we will later found the permanent State of Ventura. At present we will organize four departments--Production, Distribution, Domestic Service, and Education. "I am going to ask each one of you, by secret ballot, to choose your permanent work." A cheer shook the building. Norman flushed with pleasure, and continued quickly: "It shall be my constant aim as your general manager under our temporary organization to give you the widest personal liberty consistent with the success of our enterprise. "Before preparing your ballots for choice of your work, I shall have to ask that each head of a family and each unmarried man and woman first pass by the platform and draw lots for the assignment of your rooms in our Mission House. There have been some complaints already, I'm sorry to say, on this question. Some wish to live on the first floor, some on the top, but everybody wants to live on the south side of the house with the glorious views of the sea, and nobody wishes to live on the north side. There is but one way to determine such a question in our ideal state. Fate must decide. "The numbers of each room and suite are in the basket. The bachelors will be assigned to the right wing, the girls to the left wing, the married ones to the centre of the building. "Please form in line on the left and march toward the right aisle past the platform." "Mr. Chairman!" called Roland Adair, the Bard of Ramcat. Norman rapped for silence, and those who had risen resumed their seats. "I protest, Mr. Chairman," continued the poet, "against the cruelty of such a process. The weak and the aged should be given their choice first." "We left them all behind us!" Norman cried, with a wave of his hand. "There are no weak and aged in this crowd. We belong to the elect. We have found the secret of eternal youth." Another cheer swept the crowd, the poet subsided with a sigh of contempt, and the people quickly filed past the platform and drew their lots for permanent rooms in the building. The larger suites had been subdivided, so that the entire pioneer colony of two thousand found accommodations under one roof. When the crowd had resumed their seats, and the last cry of triumph over a successful draw and the last groan of disappointment over an unlucky lot had subsided, Norman rose and made the most momentous announcement the Brotherhood had yet heard: