“And you are giving your life to help these people?” the girl went on. “I want to see your Hall and Mission. Take me to them,” she abruptly demanded.
The priest gave a start of surprise. He looked down at little Tony, and then up at Carmen again.
“Come,” she said. “We will leave the boy at his door, and then go to your Mission and Hall. Now tell me, you are a Roman Catholic priest?”
“Yes,” he said mechanically, following her as she started away.
“How did you happen to get into this sort of work?” she pursued.
“Oh, I’ve been at it these ten years!” he returned, now recovered from his surprise, and pleased to talk about his work. “I’d had some experience in New York in the Bowery district. I came to the conclusion that there were mighty few down-and-outs who couldn’t be set upon their pins again, given half a chance by any one sufficiently interested. There’s the point. You see, Miss, I believe in my fellow-men. The results have justified my labors. Oh, it’s only temporary, I know. It ain’t going to change the whole social system. It’s a makeshift. But it helps a bit––and I like it.
“But,” he continued more seriously, “there’s going to be trouble here. A strike is coming. And it’s going to be a bad one. I wish I could convince Mr. Ames.”
“Have you tried?” she asked.
“I’ve written him several times of late. It doesn’t do any good. His secretary writes back that Mr. Ames is doing all he can. But it’s not much I see he’s doing, except to go on sucking the blood from these poor devils down here!”