246 THE FAT OF THE LAND 



a finger, or, by God ! Tom Carkeek will kick the 

 stuffin' out en 'e ! " 



This was enough to prevent any overt act, 

 for Tom Carkeek was the champion wrestler in 

 all that county ; he was fiercer than fire when 

 roused, and he would be backed by every Cor- 

 nishman on the job. 



Jack went on with his talk. " The < Order 

 of Thinkers ' claim that you men and all of your 

 class spend one-third of your entire wages for 

 whiskey and beer. There are exceptions, but 

 the figures will hold good. I am going to call 

 the amount of your wages spent in this way, one- 

 fourth. The yearly pay-roll of this mine is, in 

 round numbers, $200,000. Fifty thousand of this 

 goes into the hands of those harpies, who grow 

 rich as you grow poor. You are surprised at 

 these figures, and yet they are too small. I 

 counted the saloons over there, and I find there 

 are eleven of them. Divide $50,000 into eleven 

 parts, and you would give each saloon less than 

 $5000 a year as a gross business. Not one of 

 those places can run on the legitimate percen- 

 tage of a business which does not amount to 

 more than that. Do you suppose these men are 

 here from charitable motives or for their health ? 

 Not at all. They are here to make money, and 

 they do it. Five or six hundred dollars is a 1 ! 

 they pay for the vile stuff for which they charge 

 you $5000. They rob you of manhood and money 

 alike. 



