And Samuel gave a great sigh. How very simple was the problem, when one had seen it in the light of science. Here he had been worrying and tormenting his brain about the matter; and all the time he was in the hands of Nature--and all he had to do was to lie back and let Nature solve it. “Nature never makes mistakes,” said Professor Stewart. Of course, in this new light Samuel's own case became plain. “Those who are out of work are those who have failed in the struggle,” he said. “Precisely,” said the professor. “And that is because they are unfit.” “Precisely,” said the professor again. “As Herbert Spencer has phrased it, 'Inability to catch prey must be regarded as a falling short of conduct from its ideal.' And, of course, in an industrial community, the 'prey' is a job.” “Who is Herbert Spencer?” asked Samuel. “He is recognized as the authority in such matters,” said the other. “And then,” pondered Samuel, “those who have jobs must be the fit. And the very rich people--the ones who make the millions and millions--they are the fittest of all.” “Er--yes,” said the professor. “And, of course, that makes my problem clear--I'm out of a job, and so I must die.” The professor gazed at Samuel sharply. But it was impossible to mistake the boy's open-eyed sincerity. He had no thought about himself--he was discovering the laws of life. “I'm so glad you explained it to me,” he went on. “But all these thousands of men who are starving to death--they ought to be told it, too.” “What good would it do?” asked the other. “Why, they ought to understand. They suffer, and it seems to them purposeless and stupid. But if you were to explain to them that they are being sacrificed for the benefit of the race--don't you see what a difference it would make?” “I don't believe they would take the suggestion kindly,” said the professor with a faint attempt to smile. “But why not?” asked Samuel. “Wouldn't it sound rather hypocritical, so to speak--coming from a man who had succeeded?” “Not at all! You have a right to your success, haven't you?” “I hope so.” “You have a job”--began Samuel and then hesitated. “I don't know how a professor comes to get his job,” he said. “But I suppose that the men who make the great fortunes--the ones who are wisest and best of all--they give the money for the colleges, don't they?” “Yes,” said Professor Stewart. “And then,” said Samuel, “I suppose it is they who have chosen you?” Again the professor darted a suspicious glance at his questioner. “Er--one might put it that way,” he said. “Well, then, that is your right to teach; and you could explain it. Then you could say to these men: 'There are too many of you; you aren't needed; and you must be removed.'” But the professor only shook his head. “It wouldn't do,” he said. And Samuel, pondering and seeking as ever, came to a sudden comprehension. “I see,” he exclaimed. “What is needed is action!” “Action?”