He does no
work, we know that much.'
'He told us all about that this mornin',' replied the authority. 'He
has friends as keeps him goin', that's all. As far as I can make out
it's a sort o' subscription.'
'Now, there you are!' put in Daniel with half a sneer. 'I don't call
that Socialism. Let a man support himself by his own work, then he's
got a right to say what he likes. No, no, _we_ know what Socialism
means, eh, Tom?'
The man appealed to answered with a laugh.
'Well, blest if I do, Dan! There's so many kinds o' Socialism
nowadays. Which lot does he pretend to belong to? There's the "Fiery
Cross," and there's Roodhouse with his "Tocsin," and now I s'pose
Dick'll be startin' another paper of his own.'
'No, no,' replied Mutimer's supporter. 'He holds by the "Fiery
Cross" still, so he said this mornin'. I've no opinion o' Roodhouse
myself. He makes a deal o' noise, but I can't 'see as he _does_
anything.'
'You won't catch Dick Mutimer sidin' with Roodhouse,' remarked
Daniel with a wink. 'That's an old story, eh, Tom?'
Thus the talk went on, and the sale of beverages kept pace with it.
About eight o'clock the barmaid informed Daniel that Mrs. Clay
wished to see him. Kate had entered the house by the private door,
and was sitting in the bar-parlour.
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