“Of course,” replied the other, “it is exactly what everyone with sense believes.”
“But—but—” gasped the boy, “then am I a Socialist?”
“Nine tenths of the people in the country are Socialists,” replied Everley—“only they haven't found it out yet.”
“But,” cried Samuel, “you ought to teach them!”
“We're doing our best,” laughed the other. “Come and help us.”
Samuel was quite dumfounded. “But how do people come to have all these false ideas about you?” he asked.
“Those are the ideas that the masters want them to have.”
Samuel was clutching at the arms of his chair. “Why—it's a conspiracy!” he cried.
“Precisely,” said the other. “A conspiracy of the ruling class. They own the newspapers and the books, the colleges and churches and governments. And they tell lies about us and keep us down.”
And so Samuel found himself face to face with the ultimate horror of Capitalism. It was bad enough to own the means whereby the people lived, and to starve and exploit their bodies. But to own their minds, and to lead them astray! To keep them from finding out the way of their deliverance! Surely that was the crime of crimes!