e him their money and fondly hung upon
him.

It was Mr. Quin Beasley, that conclusive reasoner, who said, "Simlike ef
you talk to Crit fer abaout th'ee bats of your eye he cand show you that
ef innybody,--don't keer who,--would putt, wall say,--wall, don't keer
haow much you say,--as much as tin thousand,--in the Comp'ny an' leave
it slumber fer say--wall, don't keer haow long you say,--as much as fo',
five months,--it 'ud be wuth,--be wuth,--wall, I don't keer to
over-fetch, but I reckin f'm whut Crit says, th'aint no tellin' whut it
_would_ be wuth."

And it was the _Canaan Call_ that endorsed Mr. Madeira in that emphatic
editorial, which is herewith reproduced, just as it was doled out
relentlessly to the few Canaan sulkers, under the caption of

"IT WILL BE DRAMATIC, BY GOSH!

"When Crit Madeira, the Colossus of Canaan, accomplishes what he
surely shall accomplish, when the roar of mill machinery begins to
reverberate through the hills of the future Joplin, arousing the
vast energies and resources of We-all, Pewee and Big Wheat, let us
be generous. If there was a sponge, kicker, shirk or drone, let us
cover his selfishness with the mantle of charity. Leave him under
the beating light of progress to wrestle with whatever remnant of a
conscience he may happen to have. If he can stand by and coolly
watch us work our gizzards out for the common good, and then reach
out to share the fruits of our sacrifices, energies and enterprise,
without a qualm, we can remember that there are many things in this
world worth far more than money, one of which is that sense of
having done our neighbour's share as well as our own. It will be
enough for us to watch when, bewildered by the lusty life and
growth and the maze of new-made streets of the future city, the
laggard stands debating with that other self, that genius that has
kept him what he is. Fancy his striking attitude, thumbs in
arm-pits and eyes rolling up to some tall spire, crying out to his
other self, 'Thou canst not say I helped do this! Shake not thy
towseled locks at me!'--By gosh, it will be dramatic!"[2]

Within a month after Bruce Steering had entered the portals of Missouri,
Madeira had put his first steam-drill into the hills. Within two more
weeks he had put in another. It took him less time to do the things that
other men think about