"A soggy lump of dough," he grumbled. "Still, such as they are, I belong to 'em. I know what they're up against better than they do. And I'm sorry for 'em, without being able to change things." "You find your people, the workers," Rod said, "a soggy lump of dough that the active brains of the world rather ruthlessly knead into such shapes as they require. And I find greediness, thoughtlessness, arrogance and waste outstanding features among a considerable portion of my own class, which we agree controls and directs industry. Neither of us likes the prospect, but what can we do about it? Not much. We didn't create this state of affairs. But our actions are shaped by it. Even if a certain humane instinct in us revolts at being mixed up in an unseemly scramble where everybody is grabbing what he can, we have to accept that condition. If we have to fight for what we want--whether it's merely to exist or to pursue an ideal--why not fight with the best weapon that offers? I'm offering you a commission in industry instead of enlistment in the ranks. It's neither philanthropy, nor a bribe on my part." "You pay me a compliment," Andy said gravely. "It's true I know logging and loggers. But I don't know that I'd make a good boss--from the employer's point of view. It would not be possible for me to drive men." "I don't want to drive men," Rod broke out impulsively. "I want to lead 'em, if it can be done. If I can give men just a little more security in their jobs, a little better conditions under which to work, a little more return in wages, that's more to them than all the theory in a thousand books. So long as men must work for wages they'll choose to work where they get the most for their effort. That's the sort of condition I want to create. Circumstances compel me to log for a profit like every other logger. But I'm neither a hog nor a parasite. I'm willing to share profits with the men who make them for me." "All right, I'm your man," Andy said abruptly. "I never intended to look at a pay check again. I can be a free and unfettered beachcomber and make a living and still be my own boss. But this looks interesting to me. If you don't like my style, or I yours, I can quit on short notice." "Yes," Rod smiled. "That's where you have the best of the bargain. You can quit. I can't." "That's rather stretching it a bit," Andy observed dryly. "I can't see that." "You will presently," Rod informed him. He sketched for Andy's benefit the situation in which he stood, the necessity for creating revenue, the obligation which he felt to rest heavily upon him. "If I can pull out in a couple of years with Hawk's Nest, some machinery and a well-organized crew, I'll be lucky," he said. "If I can do that, men and machinery is all I need to build up a permanent structure of industry that will take care of my wants and the wants of every man in the organization."