Upton Sinclair

“ I never pay much attention to politics--it ain't in my line."
"Well, that's the way I like to hear a miner talk!" said the pit-boss, with heartiness. "If they all had sense enough to leave politics to the politicians, they'd be a sight better off. What they need is to tend to their own jobs."
"Yes, sir," agreed Hal, meekly--"like I had to tend to them mules, if I didn't want to get the colic."
The boss smiled appreciatively. "You've got more sense than most of 'em. If you'll stand by me, there'll be a chance for you to move up in the world." ”

“ See?"
"Yes, I see."
"Maybe a mine-boss has got no right to meddle in politics--but there's one thing he's got the say about, and that is who works in his mine. It's the easiest thing to weed out--weed out--" Hal never forgot the motion of beefy hands with which Alec Stone illustrated these words. As he went on, the tones of his voice did not seem so good-natured as usual. "The fellows that don't want to vote my way can go somewhere else to do their voting. That's all I got to say on politics!" ”

“ We get them naturalised on purpose--they vote our way for a glass of beer. But the English-speaking men, or the foreigners that's been here too long, and got too big for their breeches--they're the ones we got to watch. If they get to talking politics, they don't stop there; the first thing you know, they're listening to union agitators, and wanting to run the camp."
"Oh yes, I see!" said Hal, and wondered if his voice sounded right.
But the pit-boss was concerned with his own troubles. ”