CHAPTER XVIII.
A MAN OF THE PEOPLE.
Carker was almost smothered in the powerful arms of the delighted Irishyouth.
To the crowd, however, it seemed that a violent assault had been made onthe orator. In that crowd were many who sympathized with the socialisticspeaker or were pronounced socialists themselves. These persons grewexcited immediately, and a dozen of them sought to push forward toCarker's assistance. They reached for Mulloy and Gallup with savagehands or sought to smite the two young men with clenched fists.
"Great hemlock!" exclaimed Ephraim, as he thrust aside the outstretchedhands or warded off blows. "What in thutteration's the matter with thisbunch of lunatics!"
"Down with them--down with the aristocrats!" snarled the angry crowd.
"Whoop! Hooroo!" shouted Barney Mulloy, releasing Carker. "Is it aschrap thot do be on our hands, Oi dunno? Begorra, it's so long sinceOi've been consarned in a real fight that me blood tingles with pleasureat the thought av it."
By this time Carker recognized the sun-tanned young man who hadinterrupted his speech. As quickly as possible he flung himself in frontof the excited crowd, threw up his hands, and shouted:
"Stand back! stand back! They're my friends!"
"Gott in Himmel!" gurgled a German. "Did not they you attackt? Dit venot see them py our eyes as they didid it?"
"I tell you they're my friends," persisted Carker.
"They hit-a you! They grab-a you!" shouted an Italian. "They stop-a youfrom making the speech!"
"It's all right," persisted the young socialist. "I had finished myspeech. I tell you to keep back! Stand off! The man who touches them isnot friendly toward me. He's not friendly toward socialism."
"Vale," said the German, "uf you put it to us up dot vay, it vill asettlement make."
Then he turned and faced the crowd, pushing many of them back with hispudgy hands as he shouted:
"Stood avay nearer off! Don't push up so far close! Dit you not hear ourprother say they vas his friendts alretty?"
The excitement of the crowd rapidly subsided. Carker spoke to themcalmly, explaining that the two young men who had brought his speech tosuch a sudden termination were his bosom comrades of old times, eventhought they might not be thoroughbred socialists.
"Where the dickens did you two boys come from?" he finally demanded, ashe once more turned toward Ephraim and Barney, grasping their hands."Oh, it's good to see you again, fellows!"
"Begorra, to see yez is a soight for sore eyes and to hear yez is musicto deaf ears!" chuckled Barney Mulloy. "You're the same old rabidchampeen av the downtrodden masses. You're still pratin' away about thecoming of the great earthquake."
"That's right, by gum!" grinned Gallup. "But, say, why didn't yeou warnthe people of Frisco before they gut shook up?"
"When I speak of the great coming earthquake," said Carker, "you knowI'm talking figuratively. But you haven't answered my question. Wheredid you chaps come from?"
"Right up from old Mexico," replied Ephraim. "We've been down there, meand Barney, a-helpin' put through the new Central Sonora Railroad. Theold road's finished, and we're takin' a vacation now, with a big bankaccount to our credit and plenty of the long green in our pantspockets."
"Tainted money! tainted money!" exclaimed Greg dramatically. "You'vebeen laboring for a heartless corporation. These great railroadcompanies have made their wealth by robbing the downtrodden masses."
"Ye don't say!" grinned Barney. "The money we have made may be tainted,but the only taint I've discovered about it is 'tain't enough."
"Oh, you're still frivolous and thoughtless, both of you," assertedGreg, with a shake of his bushy head. "You can't seem to realize thefact that in these degenerate days there are no longer opportunities formen to rise from the lower ranks to positions of competence,independence, and power. The great corporations and trusts are killingcompetition and holding the masses down. A boy born in the lower walksno longer has a chance to get out of that strata of existence."
"It's rot ye still talk, me fri'nd," declared Barney. "Oi think th'chances are as good as they iver were, and a lot betther, av anything."
"If yeou're right," put in Ephraim, "'tain't the great corporations andtrusts alone that are to blame. It's the labor organizations that sayevery workingman, no matter whether he's capable of great things or isjust an ordinary dub, shall take a sartain scale of wages. That killsambition and keeps young fellers of ability and genius from risin'. Yes,siree, it sartinly does."
"Oh, your mind is too narrow to grasp all the phases of this greatquestion," asserted the young socialist, with a sweep of his hand. "Iwish you'd prove to me that young men still have a chance to rise inthese days. Show me an example."
"Me bhoy, ye moight take a look at Barney Mulloy," suggested the smilingIrishman. "It's something loike tin thousand clane dollars he's made inth' last year. Thot he's done in Mexico."
"And when yeou git through lookin' at him," suggested Gallup, "yeoumight cast an eye round in my direction. Me and Barney have beenpartners, and, by jinks! I've cleaned up ten thousand, too."
For a moment Carker seemed a bit staggered, but he quickly recovered.
"What's ten thousand in these days? What's that but a drop in the bucketwhen your big magnates accumulate millions upon millions?"
"Well, me bhoy," laughed Barney, with a comical twist of his mug, "tinthousand will do for a nist egg. Wid thot for a nist egg, we ought tohatch out enough to kape us from becomin' objects of charity in our ouldage."
"A man is foolish to waste his time in argument with such chaps as you,"said Greg, with a shrug of his shoulders. "Are you on this train?"
When they replied that they were, he explained that he was there to takethe same train. Within the station he secured his battered old suitcase, which he had left there.
"Have yeou a seat?" asked Gallup.
"Why, I expect to get a seat on the regular passenger coach," answeredCarker.
"You kin git a seat in our car, I guess," said Ephraim. "Not more'n halfthe seats was taken."
At the steps of the parlor car Greg halted.
"Are you riding in this car?" he asked.
"Shure," nodded Barney.
"Then I'm sorry," said the young socialist. "I can't ride with you."
In a breath both Mulloy and Gallup demanded to know why.
"Parlor coaches are made for aristocrats," explained Greg. "I'm one ofthe masses. I'm democratic. I ride with common people in the commoncoaches."
"Begorra, ye'll roide in this car av we have to kidnap yez!" shoutedMulloy. "Av you're too close-fisted to buy a sate yersilf, Oi'll pay forit!"
This touched Carker's pride.
"You hurt me by such words, Barney," he protested. "Close-fisted! Myboy, do you know I've given away nearly all my ready money in the lastsix months to the needy and suffering? I've seen big, fat-stomached,overfed men lolling in their parlor-car seats while weak invalids,wretched and faint from the strain of trouble, have sat in the commoncars. Do you think I could be selfish enough to spend my money for myown comfort and luxury, knowing that such poor people might be sufferingon this train?"
"Yer heart's all roight, Greg, ould bhoy," explained Barney; "but ye'llfoind thot yer pocketbook isn't big enough to alleviate all th'suffering thot ye'll discover in the world. Come on, Ephraim, we'll puthim on this car or l'ave him dead on the platform."
They seized Carker and forced him up the steps. In a moment he ceased toresist and permitted them to push him into the car.
"All right, boys," he muttered regretfully, "as it's you, and we haven'tseen each other for so long, I'll put aside my scruples and travel in aparlor car to-day."
They found Teresa and Juanita chatting in Spanish, quite unaware of whathad taken place on the station platform. Carker was introduced to Mrs.Gallup and her young friend. He removed his hat, flung back his mane ofhair, and bowed before them with the grace of a true gentleman.
"Mrs. Gallup," he murmured, "it's the pleasure
of my life to meet thewife of my old friend and comrade. And to meet Mrs. Gallup's friend,Senyorita Garcia, is scarcely a smaller pleasure."
"How beauteeful he do talk!" murmured Juanita.
There was a strange flash in her dark eyes as she surveyed the youngsocialist. With his long hair, his pale classical face, his sad poeticeyes, he was indeed a handsome fellow of a type seldom seen. The factthat his clothes were unconventional in their cut and that he wore anegligee shirt with a soft wide collar detracted not a whit from hisstriking appearance.
The train soon pulled out, and when the conductor came through a seatwas secured for Carker, who restrained Mulloy with an air of dignitywhen Barney attempted to pay the bill.
"I'm not quite busted myself," asserted Greg, with a faint smile, at thesame time producing a roll of bills.
The conductor was paid and passed on. Then they settled down for asociable chat.
Frank Merriwell's Son; Or, A Chip Off the Old Block Page 18
