He is at least a good man, even if he does disagree with you on political and industrial problems. And heaven knows that good men are rare enough these days.

{Starkweather}

I impugn neither his morality nor his motives--only his rationality. Really, Margaret, there is nothing inherently vicious about him. I grant that. And it is precisely that which makes him such a power for evil.

{Margaret}

When I think of all the misery and pain which he is trying to remedy--I can see in him only a power for good. He is not working for himself but for the many. That is why he has no money. You have heaven alone knows how many millions--you don't; you have worked for yourself.

{Starkweather}

I, too, work for the many. I give work to the many. I make life possible for the many. I am only too keenly alive to the responsibilities of my stewardship of wealth.

{Margaret}

But what of the child laborers working at the machines? Is that necessary, O steward of wealth? How my heart has ached for them!

How I have longed to do something for them--to change conditions so that it will no longer be necessary for the children to toil, to have the playtime of childhood stolen away from them.

Theft--that is what it is, the playtime of the children coined into profits. That is why I like Howard Knox. He calls theft theft. He is trying to do something for those children. What are you trying to do for them?

{Starkweather}

Sentiment. Sentiment. The question is too vast and complicated, and you cannot understand. No woman can understand. That is why you run to sentiment. That is what is the matter with this Knox--sentiment. You can't run a government of ninety millions of people on sentiment, nor on abstract ideas of justice and right.

{Margaret}

But if you eliminate justice and right, what remains?

{Starkweather}

This is a practical world, and it must be managed by practical men--by thinkers, not by near-thinkers whose heads are addled with the half-digested ideas of the French Encyclopedists and Revolutionists of a century and a half ago.

(_Margaret shows signs of impatience--she is not particularly perturbed by this pa.s.sage-at-arms with her father, and is anxious to get off her street things._)

Don't forget, my daughter, that your father knows the books as well as any cow college graduate from Oregon. I, too, in my student days, dabbled in theories of universal happiness and righteousness, saw my vision and dreamed my dream. I did not know then the weakness, and frailty, and grossness of the human clay.

But I grew out of that and into a man. Some men never grow out of that stage. That is what is the trouble with Knox. He is still a dreamer, and a dangerous one.

(_He pauses a moment, and then his thin lips shut grimly. But he has just about shot his bolt._)

{Margaret}

What do you mean?

{Starkweather}

He has let himself in to give a speech to-morrow, wherein he will be called upon to deliver the proofs of all the lurid charges he has made against the Administration--against us, the stewards of wealth if you please. He will be unable to deliver the proofs, and the nation will laugh. And that will be the political end of Mr. Ali Baba and his dream.

{Margaret}

It is a beautiful dream. Were there more like him the dream would come true. After all, it is the dreamers that build and that never die. Perhaps you will find that he is not so easily to be destroyed. But I can't stay and argue with you, father. I simply must go and get my things off.

(_To Connie._) You'll have to receive, dear. I'll be right back.

(_Julius Rutland enters. Margaret advances to meet him, shaking his hand._) You must forgive me for deserting for a moment.

{Rutland}

(_Greeting the others._) A family council, I see.

{Margaret}

(_On way to exit at rear._) No; a discussion on dreams and dreamers. I leave you to bear my part.

{Rutland}

(_Bowing._) With pleasure. The dreamers are the true architects.

But--a--what is the dream and who is the dreamer?

{Margaret}

(_Pausing in the doorway._) The dream of social justice, of fair play and a square deal to everybody. The dreamer--Mr. Knox.

(_Rutland is so patently irritated, that Margaret lingers in the doorway to enjoy._)

{Rutland}

That man! He has insulted and reviled the Church--my calling.

He--

{Connie}

(_Interrupting._) He said the churchmen stole from G.o.d. I remember he once said there had been only one true Christian and that He died on the Cross.

{Margaret}

He quoted that from Nietzsche.

{Starkweather}

(_To Rutland, in quiet glee._) He had you there.

{Rutland}

(_In composed fury._) Nietzsche is a blasphemer, sir. Any man who reads Nietzsche or quotes Nietzsche is a blasphemer. It augurs ill for the future of America when such pernicious literature has the vogue it has.

{Margaret}

(_Interrupting, laughing._) I leave the quarrel in your hands, sir knight. Remember--the dreamer and the dream. (_Margaret makes exit._)

{Rutland}