``How could I know his motives?--any man's motives?'' replied Victor.``No one can read men's hearts.All I ever consider is actions.And the result of his actions is probably the defeat of the League and the election of **** Kelly.''
``I begin to understand,'' said Selma thoughtfully.``But--I do believe his motive was altogether good.''
``My dear girl,'' said Victor, ``the primer lesson in the life of action is: `Never--NEVER look at motives.Action--only actions--always actions.' The chief reason the human race is led patiently round by the nose is its fondness for fussing about motives.We are interested only in men's actions and the results to our cause.Davy Hull's motives concern only himself-- and those who care for him.'' Victor's eyes, twinkling mischievously, shot a shrewd glance at Selma.``You're not by any chance in love with Davy?''
Selma colored high.``Certainly not!'' she exclaimed indignantly.
``Why not? Why not?'' teased Victor.``He's tall and handsome--and superbly solemn--and women always fancy a solemn man has intellect and character.Not that Davy is a fool--by no means.I'd be the last man to say that--I whom he has just cleverly checkmated in one move.''
``You intended not to give bail! You intended to go to jail!''
exclaimed Selma abruptly.``I see it all! How stupid I was!
Oh, I could cry, Victor! What a chance.''
``Spilt milk,'' said Victor.``We must forget it, and plan to meet the new conditions.We'll start the paper at once.We can't attack him.Very clever of him-- very clever! If he were as brave as he is shrewd, I'd almost give up hope of winning this town while he was in politics here.But he lacks courage.And he daren't think and speak honestly.How that does cripple a man!''
``He'll be one of us before very long,'' said Selma.``You misjudge him, Victor.''
Dorn smiled.``Not so long as his own class gratifies his ambitions,'' replied Victor.``If he came with us it'd be because his own class had failed him and he hoped to rise through and upon--ours.''
Selma did not agree with him.But as she always felt presumptuous and even foolish in disagreeing with Victor, she kept silent.And presently Victor began to lay out her share in the task of starting up the New Day.``I shall be all right within a week,'' said he, ``and we must get the first number out the week following.'' She was realizing now that Hull's move had completely upset an elaborate plan of campaign into which Victor had put all his intelligence and upon which he had staked all his hopes.She marvelled as he talked, unfolding rapidly an entirely new campaign, different in every respect from what the other would have been.How swiftly his mind had worked, and how well!
How little time he had wasted in vain regrets! How quickly he had recovered from a reverse that would have halted many a strong man.
And then she remembered how they all, his associates, were like him, proof against the evil effects of set-back and defeat.And why were they so? Because Victor Dorn had trained them to fight for the cause, and not for victory.``Our cause is the right, and in the end right is bound to win because the right is only another name for the sensible''--that had been his teaching.And a hardy army he had trained.The armies trained by victory are strong; but the armies schooled by defeat--they are invincible.
When he had explained his new campaign--as much of it as he deemed it wise at that time to withdraw from the security of his own brain--she said:
``But it seems to me we've got a good chance to win, anyhow.''
``A chance, perhaps,'' replied he.``But we'll not bother about that.All we've got to do is to keep on strengthening ourselves.''
``Yes, that's it!'' she cried.``One added here--five there--ten yonder.Every new stone fitted solidly against the ones already in place.''
``We must never forget that we aren't merely building a new party,'' said Dorn.``We're building a new civilization--one to fit the new conditions of life.Let the Davy Hulls patch and tinker away at trying to keep the old structure from falling in.
We know it's bound to fall and that it isn't fit for decent civilized human beings to live in.And we're getting the new house ready.So--to us, election day is no more important than any of the three hundred and sixty-five.''
It was into the presence of a Victor Dorn restored in mind as well as in body that Jane Hastings was shown by his sister, Mrs.
Sherrill, one afternoon a week or so later.
All that time Jane had been searching for an excuse for going to see him.She had haunted the roads and the woods where he and Selma habitually walked.She had seen neither of them.When the pretext for a call finally came to her, as usual, the most obvious thing in the world.He must be suspecting her of having betrayed his confidence and brought about the vacating of those injunctions and the quashing of the indictments.She must go to him and clear herself of suspicion.
She felt that the question of how she should dress for this crucial interview, this attempt to establish some sort of friendly relations with him, was of the very highest importance.
Should she wear something plain, something that would make her look as nearly as might be like one of his own class? HIS class!
No --no, indeed.The class in which he was accidentally born and bred, but to which he did not belong.Or, should she go dressed frankly as of her own class-- wearing the sort of things that made her look her finest and most superior and most beautiful?
