"Like the doctors? Well, we won't quarrel. I suppose you mean to give 'us' a hard time of it? Come in when it is all settled, and we will talk it over. Meantime you've got enough mischief on your hands to last you for some months."
"I don't blame you," Dresser said benignantly, "for your position. Perhaps if I had had the opportunities—"
"That's just it. Your crowd are all alike, at least the leaders; they are hungry for the fleshpots. If they had the opportunities, we should be served as they are now. That's the chief trouble,—nobody really cares to make the sacrifices. And that is why this row will be ended on the old terms: the rich will buy out the leaders. Better times will come, and we shall all settle down to the same old game of grab on the same old basis. But you," Sommers turned on the sauntering blue-eyed fellow, "people like you are the real curse."
"Why?"
"Because you are insincere. All you want is the pie. You make me feel that the privileged classes are right in getting what they can out of fools and—knaves."
"That's about enough. I suppose you are put out about the money—"
"Don't be an ass, Dresser. I don't need the hundred. And I don't want a quarrel. I think you are playing with dynamite, because you can't get the plunder others have got. Look out when the dynamite comes down."
"It makes no difference to me," Dresser protested sullenly.
"No! That's why you are dangerous. Well, good-by. Get your friends to leave the Northwestern open a day or two longer."
"There won't be a train running on the Northwestern to-morrow. I've seen the orders."