He stopped at a little frame house and a moment after knocking was in the
presence of the man who had talked night after night from the box in the
street. Sam had decided to see what could be done through him. The
socialist was a short, fat man, with curly grey hair, shiny round cheeks,
and black broken teeth. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked as if he
had slept in his clothes. A corncob pipe lay smoking among the covers of
the bed, and during most of the talk he sat with one shoe held in his hand
as though about to put it on. About the room in orderly piles lay stack
after stack of paper-covered books. Sam sat down in a chair by the window
and told his mission.
"It is a big thing, this power steal that is going on here," he explained.
"I know the man back of it and he would not bother with a small affair. I
know they are going to make the city build the millrace and then steal it.
It will be a big thing for your party about here if you take hold and stop
them. Let me tell you how it can be done."
He explained his plan, and told of Crofts and of his wealth and dogged,
bullying determination. The socialist seemed beside himself. He pulled on
the shoe and began running hurriedly about the room.
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