“Because,” he cried, “because I should lose my self-respect for life if I sat here and permitted the political organization of a railroad, the members of which are here under the guise of servants of the people, to cow me into silence.  And if it be treason to mention the name of that Railroad in connection with its political tyranny, then make the most of it.”  He let go of the desk, and tapped the copy of the bill.  “What are the facts?  The Boyne Iron Works, under the presidency of Adolf Scherer, has been engaged in litigation with the Ribblevale Steel Company for some years:  and this bill is intended to put into the hands of the attorneys for Mr. Scherer certain information that will enable him to get possession of the property.  Gentlemen, that is what ‘legal practice’ has descended to in the hands of respectable lawyers.  This device originated with the resourceful Mr. Theodore Watling, and if it had not had the approval of Mr. Miller Gorse, it would never have got any farther than the judiciary committee.  It was confided to the skillful care of Colonel Paul Varney to be steered through this legislature, as hundreds of other measures have been steered through,—­without unnecessary noise.  It may be asked why the Railroad should bother itself by lending its political organization to private corporations?  I will tell you.  Because corporations like the Boyne corporation are a part of a network of interests, these corporations aid the Railroad to maintain its monopoly, and in return receive rebates.”

Krebs had raised his voice as the murmurs became louder.  At this point a sharp-faced lawyer from Belfast got to his feet and objected that the gentleman from Elkington was wasting the time of the House, indulging in hearsay.  His remarks were not germane, etc.  The Speaker rapped again, with a fine show of impartiality, and cautioned the member from Elkington.

“Very well,” replied Krebs.  “I have said what I wanted to say on that score, and I know it to be the truth.  And if this House does not find it germane, the day is coming when its constituents will.”

Whereupon he entered into a discussion of the bill, dissecting it with more calmness, with an ability that must have commanded, even from some hostile minds, an unwilling respect.  The penalty, he said, was outrageous, hitherto unheard of in law,—­putting a corporation in the hands of a receiver, at the mercy of those who coveted it, because one of its officers refused, or was unable, to testify.  He might be in China, in Timbuctoo when the summons was delivered at his last or usual place of abode.  Here was an enormity, an exercise of tyrannical power exceeding all bounds, a travesty on popular government....  He ended by pointing out the significance of the fact that the committee had given no hearings; by declaring that if the bill became a law, it would inevitably react upon the heads of those who were responsible for it.

He sat down, and there was a flutter of applause from the scattered audience in the gallery.