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It was an
exceedingly sweeping conclusion, embracing EVERYTHING. He discerned
no ray of light.
He studied his own conduct, but could convince himself of no
voluntary wrongdoing. Yet he was in a cell. ... In the beginning he
had merely tried to understand something that aroused his curiosity--
labor. From the point of view of capital, as represented by his
father, this had been a sin. How or why it was a sin he could not
comprehend. ... Labor had been willing to be friendly, but now it
hated him. Orders given in his name, but not originating in his will,
had caused this. His attitude became fatalistic--he was being moved
about by a ruthless hand without regard to his own volition. He might
as well close his eyes and his mind and submit, for Bonbright Foote
VII did not exist as a rational human individual, but only as a
checker on the board, to be moved from square to square with such
success or error as the player possessed.
Last night. ... He had been mishandled by the employees of capital
and the guardians of society; he had been mobbed by labor.


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