"Exactly so," agreed the Interpreter. "And yet, sir, you claim for yourself the right to live by the same spirit of imperialism that animates Vodell. You make the identical class distinction that he makes. You appeal to the same class intolerance and hatred. You and Jake Vodell have together brought about this industrial war in Millsburgh. The community itself--labor unions and business men alike--is responsible for tolerating the imperialism that you and this alien agitator, in opposition to each other, advocate. The community is paying the price." The factory owner flushed. "Of course you would say these things to Jake Vodell." "I do," returned the Interpreter, gently. "Oh, you _are_ in touch with him then?" "He comes here sometimes. He is coming this afternoon--at four o'clock. Will you not stay and meet him, Mr. McIver?" McIver hesitated. He decided to ignore the invitation. With more respect in his manner than he had so far shown, he said, courteously, "May I ask why Jake Vodell comes to you?" The Interpreter replied, sadly, as one who accepts the fact of his failure, "For the same reason that McIver came." McIver started with surprise. "You know why I came to you?" The man in the wheel chair looked steadily into his visitor's eyes. "I know that you are not personally responsible for the death of the workman, Captain Martin." McIver sprang to his feet. He fairly gasped as the flood of questions raised by the Interpreter's words swept over him. "You--you know who killed Charlie Martin?" he demanded at last. The old basket maker did not answer. "If you know," cried McIver, "why in God's name do you not tell the people? Surely, sir, you are not ignorant of the danger that threatens this community. The death of this union man has given Vodell just the opportunity he needed and he is using it. If you dare to shield the guilty man--whoever he is--you will--" "Peace, McIver! This community will not be plunged into the horrors of a class war such as you rightly fear. There are yet enough sane and loyal American citizens in Millsburgh to extinguish the fire that you and Jake Vodell have started." * * * * * When Jake Vodell came to the Interpreter's hut shortly after McIver had left, he was clearly in a state of nervous excitement. "Well," he said, shortly, "I am here--what do you want--why did you send for me?" The Interpreter spoke deliberately with his eyes fixed upon the dark face of the agitator. "Vodell, I have told you twice that your campaign in Millsburgh was a failure. Your coming to this community was a mistake. Your refusal to recognize the power of the thing that made your defeat certain was a mistake. You have now made your third and final mistake."