as man to man； and I told you as man to man。
TANNER。 ＇wildly appealing to the heavens＇ Then II am the
bee； the spider； the marked down victim； the destined prey。
STRAKER。 I dunno about the bee and the spider。 But the marked
down victim； that's what you are and no mistake； and a jolly good
job for you； too； I should say。
TANNER。 ＇momentously＇ Henry Straker： the moment of your life has
arrived。
STRAKER。 What d'y'mean？
TANNER。 That record to Biskra。
STRAKER。 ＇eagerly＇ Yes？
TANNER。 Break it。
STRAKER。 ＇rising to the height of his destiny＇ D'y'mean it？
TANNER。 I do。
STRAKER。 When？
TANNER。 Now。 Is that machine ready to start？
STRAKER。 ＇quailing＇ But you can't
TANNER。 ＇cutting him short by getting into the car＇ Off we go。
First to the bank for money； then to my rooms for my kit； then to
your rooms for your kit； then break the record from London to
Dover or Folkestone； then across the channel and away like mad to
Marseilles； Gibraltar； Genoa； any port from which we can sail to
a Mahometan country where men are protected from women。
STRAKER。 Garn！ you're kiddin。
TANNER。 ＇resolutely＇ Stay behind then。 If you won't come I'll do
it alone。 ＇He starts the motor＇。
STRAKER。 ＇running after him＇ Here！ Mister！ arf a mo！ steady on！
＇he scrambles in as the car plunges forward＇。
ACT III
Evening in the Sierra Nevada。 Rolling slopes of brown； with olive
trees instead of apple trees in the cultivated patches； and
occasional prickly pears instead of gorse and bracken in the
wilds。 Higher up； tall stone peaks and precipices； all handsome
and distinguished。 No wild nature here： rather a most
aristocratic mountain landscape made by a fastidious
artist…creator。 No vulgar profusion of vegetation： even a touch
of aridity in the frequent patches of stones： Spanish
magnificence and Spanish economy everywhere。
Not very far north of a spot at which the high road over one of
the passes crosses a tunnel on the railway from Malaga to
Granada； is one of the mountain amphitheatres of the Sierra。
Looking at it from the wide end of the horse…shoe； one sees； a
little to the right； in the face of the cliff； a romantic cave
which is really an abandoned quarry； and towards the left a
little hill； commanding a view of the road； which skirts the
amphitheatre on the left； maintaining its higher level on
embankments and on an occasional stone arch。 On the hill；
watching the road； is a man who is either a Spaniard or a
Scotchman。 Probably a Spaniard； since he wears the dress of a
Spanish goatherd and seems at home in the Sierra Nevada； but
very like a Scotchman for all that。 In the hollow； on the slope
leading to the quarry…cave； are about a dozen men who； as they
recline at their cave round a heap of smouldering white ashes of
dead leaf and brushwood； have an air of being conscious of
themselves as picturesque scoundrels honoring the Sierra by
using it as an effective pictorial background。 As a matter of
artistic fact they are not picturesque； and the mountains
tolerate them as lions tolerate lice。 An English policeman or
Poor Law Guardian would recognize them as a selected band of
tramps and ablebodied paupers。
This description of them is not wholly contemptuous。 Whoever has
intelligently observed the tramp； or visited the ablebodied ward
of a workhouse； will admit that our social failures are not all
drunkards and weaklings。 Some of them are men who do not fit the
class they were born into。 Precisely the same qualities that make
the educated gentleman an artist may make an uneducated manual
laborer an ablebodied pauper。 There are men who fall helplessly
into the workhouse because they are good far nothing； but there
are also men who are there because they are strongminded enough
to disregard the social convention （obviously not a disinterested
one on the part of the ratepayer） which bids a man live by
heavy and badly paid drudgery when he has the alternative of
walking into the workhouse； announcing himself as a destitute
person； and legally compelling the Guardians to feed； clothe and
house him better than he could feed； clothe and house himself
without great exertion。 When a man who is born a poet refuses a
stool in a stockbroker's office； and starves in a garret；
spunging on a poor landlady or on his friends and relatives
rather than work against his grain； or when a lady； because she
is a lady； will face any extremity of parasitic dependence rather
than take a situation as cook or parlormaid； we make large
allowances for them。 To such allowances the ablebodied pauper and
his nomadic variant the tramp are equally entitled。
Further； the imaginative man； if his life is to be tolerable to
him； must have leisure to tell himself stories； and a position
which lends itself to imaginative decoration。 The ranks of
unskilled labor offer no such positions。 We misuse our laborers
horribly； and when a man refuses to be misused； we have no right
to say that he is refusing honest work。 Let us be frank in this
matter before we go on with our play； so that we may enjoy it
without hypocrisy。 If we were reasoning； farsighted people； four
fifths of us would go straight to the Guardians for relief； and
knock the whole social system to pieces with most beneficial
reconstructive results。 The reason we do got do this is because
we work like bees or ants； by instinct or habit； not reasoning
about the matter at all。 Therefore when a man comes along who can
and does reason； and who； applying the Kantian test to his
conduct； can truly say to us； If everybody did as I do； the world
would be compelled to reform itself industrially； and abolish
slavery and squalor； which exist only because everybody does as
you do； let us honor that man and seriously consider the
advisability of following his example。 Such a man is the
able…bodied； able…minded pauper。 Were he a gentleman doing his
best to get a pension or a sinecure instead of sweeping a
crossing； nobody would blame him； for deciding that so long as
the alternative lies between living mainly at the expense of the
community and allowing the community to live mainly at his； it
would be folly to accept what is to him personally the greater of
the two evils。
We may therefore contemplate the tramps of the Sierra without
prejudice； admitting cheerfully that our objectsbriefly；
to be gentlemen of fortuneare much the same as theirs； and the
difference in our position and methods merely accidental。 One
or two of them； perhaps； it would be wiser to kill without malice
in a friendly and frank manner； for there are bipeds； just as
there are quadrupeds； who are too dangerous to be left unchained
and unmuzzled； and these cannot fairly expect to have other men's
lives wasted in the work of watching them。 But as society has not
the courage to kill them； and； when it catches them； simply
wreaks on them some superstitious expiatory rites of torture and
degradation； and than lets them loose with heightened
qualifications for mischief； it is just as well that they are at
large in the Sierra； and in the hands of a chief who looks as if
he might possibly； on provocation； order them to be shot。
This chief； seated in the centre of the group on a squared block
of stone from the quarry； is a tall strong man； with a striking
cockatoo nose； glossy black hair； pointed beard； upturned
moustache； and a Mephistophelean affectation which is fairly
imposing； perhaps because the scenery admits of a larger swagger
than Piccadilly； perhaps because of a certain sentimentality in
the man which gives him that touch of grace which alone can
excuse deliberate picturesqueness。 His eyes and mouth are by no
means rascally； he has a fine voice and a ready wit； and whether
he is really the strongest man in the party； or not； he looks it。
He is certainly； the best fed； the best dressed； and the best
trained。 The fact that he speaks English is not unexpected in
spite of the Spanish landscape； for with the exception of one man
who might be guessed as a bullfighter ruined by drink and one
unmistakable Frenchman； they are all cockney or American；
therefore； in a land of cloaks and sombreros； they mostly wear
seedy overcoats； woollen mufflers； hard hemispherical hats； and
dirty brown gloves。 Only a very few dress after their leader；
whose broad sombrero with a cock's feather in the band； and
voluminous cloak descending to his high boots； are as un…English
as possible。 None of them are armed； and the ungloved ones keep
their hands in their pockets because it is their national belief
that it must be dangerously cold in the open air with the night
coming on。 （It is as warm an evening as any reasonable man could
desire）。
Except the bullfighting inebriate there is only one person in the
company who looks more than； say； thirty…three。 He is a small man
with reddish whiskers； weak eyes； and the anxious look of a
small tradesman in difficulties。 He wears the only tall hat
visible： it shines in the sunset with the sticky glow of some
sixpenny patent hat reviver； often applied and constantly tending
to produce a worse state of the original surface than the ruin it
was applied to remedy。 He has a collar and cuff of celluloid； and
his brown Chesterfield overcoat； with velvet collar； is still
presentable。 He is pre…eminently the respectable man of the
party； and is certainly over forty； possibly over fifty。 He is
the corner man on the leader's right； opposite three men in
scarlet ties on his left。 One of these three is the Frenchman。 Of
the remaining two； who are both English； one is argumentative；
solemn； and obstinate； the other rowdy and mischievious。
The chief； with a magnificent fling of the end of his cloak
across his left shoulder； rises to address them。 The applause
which greets him shows that he is a favorite orator。
THE CHIEF。 Friends and fellow brigands。 I have a proposal to make
to this meeting。 We have now spent three evenings in discussing
the question Have Anarchists or Social…Democrats the most
personal courage？ We have gone into the principles of Anarchism
and Social…Democracy at great length。 The cause of Anarchy has
been ably represented by our one Anarchist； who doesn't know what
Anarchi