“No contract is valid that requires breaking the law! And don’t you know these fellows are breaking a hundred laws a day?” “I know, Paul; but Dad is tied up with the other operators; you don’t understand—he’s really having trouble financially, because his wells are shut down; and he’s doing that entirely for the men.” “I know it, and we appreciate it. But now he says he’s got to give up, and bring in scabs like the rest. They’re driving us beyond endurance; they’re making a dirty fight, and your father knows it—and yet he goes along with them!” There was a pause, and Paul went on, grimly. “I know, of course; his money is at stake, and he won’t risk it; and you’ll do what he tells you.” “But Paul! I couldn’t oppose Dad! Would you expect that?” “When my father set up his will, and tried to keep me from thinking and learning the truth, I opposed him, didn’t I? And you encouraged me to do it—you thought that was all right.” “But Paul! If I were to oppose Dad in such a thing—why, I’d break his heart.” “Well, maybe I broke my father’s heart—I don’t know, and neither do you. The point is, your father’s doing wrong, and you know it; he’s helping to turn these ruffians loose on us, and deprive us of our rights as citizens, and even as human beings. You can’t deny that, and you have a duty that you owe to the truth.” There was a silence, while Bunny tried to face the appalling idea of opposing Dad, as Paul had opposed old Mr. Watkins. It had seemed so right in the one case, and seemed so impossible in the other! At last Paul went on. “I know how it is, son. You won’t do it, you haven’t the nerve for it—you’re soft.” He waited, while those cruel words sank in. “Yes, that’s the word, soft. You’ve always had everything you wanted—you’ve had it handed to you on a silver tray, and it’s made you a weakling. You have a good heart, and you know what’s right, but you couldn’t bear to act, you’d be too afraid of hurting somebody.” And that was the end of their talk. Paul had nothing more to say, and Bunny had no answer. Tears had come into his eyes—and that was weak, wasn’t it? He turned his head away, so that Paul might not see them. “Well,” said the latter, “I’ve got a pile of work to do, so I’ll be off. This fight will be over some day, and your father will go on making money, and I hope it will bring you happiness, but I doubt it, really. Good-bye, son.” “Good-bye,” said Bunny, feebly; and Paul turned on his heel and hurried away.