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----- {{tjbusp382.jpg}} || The Jungle ||


destroyed. He had published a pamphlet about it, and set
out to organize a party of his own, when a stray Socialist
leaflet had revealed to him that others had been ahead of
him. Now for eight years he had been fighting for the
party, anywhere, everywhere -- whether it was a G.A.R.
reunion, or a hotel-keepers' convention, or an Afro-Ameri~
can businessmen's banquet, or a Bible society picnic,
Tommy Hinds would manage to get himself invited to
explain the relations of Socialism to the subject in hand.
After that he would start off upon a tour of his own, end~
ing at some place between New York and Oregon; and
when he came back from there, he would go out to organize
new locals for the state committee; and finally he would
come home to rest -- and talk Socialism in Chicago.
Hinds's hotel was a very hot-bed of the propaganda; all
the employees were party men, and if they were not when
they came, they were quite certain to be before they went
away. The proprietor would get into a discussion with
someone in the lobby, and as the conversation grew ani~
mated, others would gather about to listen, until finally every
one in the place would be crowded into a group, and a
regular debate would be under way. This went on every
night -- when Tommy Hinds was not there to do it, his
clerk did it; and when his clerk was away campaigning, the
assistant attended to it, while Mrs. Hinds sat behind the
desk and did the work. The clerk was an old crony of
the proprietor's, an awkward, raw-boned giant of a man,
with a lean, sallow face, a broad mouth, and whiskers under
his chin, the very type and body of a prairie farmer. He
had been that all his life -- he had fought the railroads in
Kansas for fifty years, a Granger, a Farmers' Alliance man,
a "middle-of-the-road" Populist. Finally, Tommy Hinds
had revealed to him the wonderful idea of using the trusts
instead of destroying them, and he had sold his farm and
come to Chicago.

That was Amos Struver; and then there was Harry
Adams, the assistant clerk, a pale, scholarly-looking man,
who came from Massachusetts, of Pilgrim stock. Adams
had been a cotton operative in Fall River, and the con~


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