Frank nodded. And the man laughed.
"The land of Freedom, Graft and Finance."
"Yes, it's an odd mixture," agreed Frank. "It's also a land of slavery. A queer contradiction, but nevertheless true. Three parts of the people are held in bondage to the other fourth, who represent Capital."
The stranger stirred and settled himself. He gazed keenly into his companion's face.
"Guess you were one of the 'three parts,' and found the fourth—oppressive."
Frank shifted his position uneasily. Then with a sudden curious abandonment he spread his hands out.
"Say," he cried, his cheeks flushing, "I don't know what makes me talk to you—a stranger. You're the first man who has wanted to speak to me since—I came out. I know you've spotted my cropped head, so what's the use of trying to deny it. Yes, I've found it, I suppose. But not in the States. Just right here in Canada, where things are much the same. I've just come out of Alston Penitentiary. I was sentenced wrongfully to five years, and now, at the end of one of them they've found out my innocence, and given me a free pardon—for not being guilty."
"A free pardon?" The stranger's eyes were reading his companion through and through.
"Yes, a free pardon for an offence I never committed," Frank went on, with bitter indignation. "It doesn't matter how or where it happened. But the whole thing was worked. I mean my trial, by a man of—well, one of the millionaire class—one of the other 'fourth.' Perhaps you'll understand now why I hated you staring at me."
The stranger nodded sympathetically.