"And yet you are no more fond of buying stale things than other people."
"That may be true. And yet the way the big concerns are crushing out the small men is not a pleasant spectacle."
"But no shopkeeper compels people to buy his goods," William said, with a troubled expression in his eyes. "And when they come to his shop, is he to say he won't supply them? And when his business shows signs of expansion, is he to say it shall not expand?"
"No, no. I don't mean that at all. I like to see an honest business man prospering. And a man who attends to his business and his customers deserves to prosper. But I confess I don't like to see these huge combines and trusts deliberately pushing out the smaller men—not by fair competition, mind you, but by unfair—selling things below cost price until their competitors are in the bankruptcy court, and then reaping a big harvest."
"I like that as little as you do," William said mildly. "Every honest, industrious man ought to have a chance of life, but the chances appear to be becoming fewer every day." And he sighed again.
For several minutes neither of them spoke, then William said—
"I thought I would like to tell you all about it at the earliest opportunity. I knew I should have your sympathy."
"I wish I could help you," Ralph answered. "You helped me when I hadn't a friend in the world."
"I have your sympathy," William answered, "and that's a great thing; for the rest we must trust in God." And he rose to his feet and looked towards the door.
William and Sam did not say much on their way back to St. Goram. They talked more freely when they got into the house.