Stephen Trimble had brooded over his troubles and wrongs until he was half crazed, and the men for whom he worked added fuel to the flame.
"Why should you be so precious careful of the rich?" his employer said. "What have the rich ever done for you? They've murdered your wife, as I make out, insisting on her standing all day long, when she was not able to do so, and might have done her work just as well sitting. They've sent your innocent little boy to jail along with common pickpockets. They've robbed you of your money—"
"Stop!" cried Stephen Trimble; "you've said that over and over, until I believe it, though I don't know why I should take your word any quicker than that of anyone else. You've made much of your kindness in telling me, though I don't see what good it does me, unless you are willing to go into court and testify for me as to what you've seen."
The men shook their heads. "No going into court for us! We want to keep as far away from the law as possible."
"Then I don't see but you are as much against me as the rest. I've worked with you long enough to know what your aims are; your machine is now in working order, ready to blow up the finest house, the largest audience, in New York, church or armory, bank-vault or prison; and if all you say is true, you may blow away, for all I care, and blow yourselves up with the rest, and me too. If the world is the Sodom and Gomorrah it seems to me, we have Bible warrant for its destruction. My work for you is done; give me my money, and we are through with each other."
"See here, Trimble," said the anarchist, "we have already paid you fifteen dollars, and you ought not to be too close with us."
"You promised me a hundred; do you mean to say—"
"Don't be so touchy; what I mean to say is this: We cannot help you by testifying in court, as you suggested; it wouldn't do you any good if we did; but find out the man who has wronged you, and we will help you to your revenge. In a few days our society will begin its operations. We are out of funds now, but there will be a new deal soon. We begin with the banking-house of Roseveldt, Gold & Co., and as soon as the fireworks are over we will be rich enough, and you shall have a fair share."
Stephen Trimble sprang to his feet. "I thought you were anarchists! do you acknowledge that you are common burglars?"