"I shall," replied. Elms, his blood rising. "I'm a soldier. I believe in discipline, I can tell you. So no nonsense, or, mind, you walk! That's plain."
Poor creatures. The iron was entering into their soul. Inwardly they cursed the dead man for devoting them to such a tyrant.
"We are agin private property," continued Elms. "No playing at individual allotments and 'private accounts' with us. We're all equal in the sight of God, and mean to remain so."
"I hope you will," growled one, stooping behind a friendly back.
"Three cheers for Pure Democracy and Socialism Undefiled!" called out Malduke.
No one responded.
Forthwith committees and boards were abolished. The books that contained records of each man's standing were ordered to be burnt. Happily Frank Brown managed to secure and to hide them.
"Individualism, Familism, must be killed," decreed the dictator.
At every cross-road, great kitchens and eating-rooms were run up in weather-board. All were compelled to eat in common.
"It means a great saving in time and food," claimed Elms, "instead of every busy-body of a woman pottering about with her own provisioning."
None were permitted to claim ownership in cattle, poultry, or other stock. All was to be regulated. And so it was. Men and women worked as little and as ineffectively as they could. Cows were dried off; vegetables ran to seed; crops were spoiled; machinery was smashed; bad work performed. None felt interest in the duty he was called upon mechanically to discharge.
