“That’s the question at issue between us, Percy. Have you forgotten our arguments? I tried to convince you what it meant that you and I should own the things by which other people have to live. I said we were ignorant of the conditions under which our properties were worked, we were a bunch of parasites and idlers. But you laughed at me, called me a crank, an anarchist, said I swallowed what any muck-raker fed me. So I said: ‘I’ll go to one of Percy’s mines! Then, when he tries to argue with me, I’ll have him!’ That was the way the thing started--as a joke. But then I got drawn into things. I don’t want to be nasty, but no man with a drop of red blood in his veins could stay in this place a week without wanting to fight! That’s why I want you to stay--you ought to stay, to meet some of the people and see for yourself.” “Well, I can’t stay,” said the other, coldly. “And all I can tell you is that I wish you’d go somewhere else to do your sociology.” “But where could I go, Percy? Somebody owns everything. If it’s a big thing, it’s almost certain to be somebody we know.” Said Percy, “If I might make a suggestion, you could have begun with the coal-mines of the Warner Company.” Hal laughed. “You may be sure I thought of that, Percy. But see the situation! If I was to accomplish my purpose, it was essential that I shouldn’t be known. And I had met some of my father’s superintendents in his office, and I knew they’d recognise me. So I _had_ to go to some other mines.” “Most fortunate for the Warner Company,” replied Percy, in an ugly tone. Hal answered, gravely, “Let me tell you, I don’t intend to leave the Warner Company permanently out of my sociology.” “Well,” replied the other, “all I can say is that we pass one of their properties on our way back, and nothing would please me better than to stop the train and let you off!” SECTION 21. Hal went into the drawing-room car. There were Mrs. Curtis and Reggie Porter, playing bridge with Genevieve Halsey and young Everson. Bob Creston was chatting with Betty Gunnison, telling her what he had seen outside, no doubt. Bert Atkins was looking over the morning paper, yawning. Hal went on, seeking Jessie Arthur, and found her in one of the compartments of the car, looking out of the rain-drenched window--learning about a mining-camp in the manner permitted to young ladies of her class. He expected to find her in a disturbed state of mind, and was prepared to apologise. But when he met the look of distress she turned upon him, he did not know just where to begin. He tried to speak casually--he had heard she was going away. But she caught him by the hand, exclaiming: “Hal, you are coming with us!” He did not answer for a moment, but sat down by her. “Have I made you suffer so much, Jessie?”