d. It shrieked in triumph as it came. It
was the daily train from the East, arriving at the Sagalac River.

"These things must be," he said aloud as he looked. While he lost
himself again in reminiscence, a young man came driving across the
plains, passing beneath where he stood. The young man's face and figure
suggested power. In his buggy was a fishing-rod.

His hat was pulled down over his eyes, but he was humming cheerfully
to himself. When he saw the priest, he raised his hat respectfully, yet
with an air of equality.

"Good day, Monseigneur" (this honour of the Church had come at last to
the aged missionary), he said warmly. "Good day--good day!"

The priest raised his hat and murmured the name, "Ingolby." As the
distance grew between them, he said sadly: "These are the men who change
the West, who seize it, and divide it, and make it their own--

"'I will rejoice, and divide Sichem: and mete out the valley of
Succoth.'

"Hush! Hush!" he said to himself in reproach. "These things must be. The
country must be opened up. That is why I came--to bring the Truth before
the trader."

Now another traveller came riding out of Lebanon towards him, galloping
his horse up-hill and down. He also was young, but nothing about him
suggested power, only self-indulgence. He, too, raised his hat, or
rather swung it from his head in a devil-may-care way, and overdid his
salutation. He did not speak. The priest's face was very grave, if not a
little resentful. His salutation was reserved.

"The tyranny of gold," he murmured, "and without the mind or energy that
created it. Felix was no name for him. Ingolby is a builder, perhaps a
jerry-builder; but he builds."

He looked across the prairie towards the young man in the buggy.

"Sure, he is a builder. He has the Cortez eye. He sees far off, and
plans big things. But Felix Marchand there--"

He stopped short.

"Such men must be, perhaps," he added. Then, after a moment, as he gazed
round again upon the land of promise which he had loved so long, he
murmured as one murmurs a prayer:

"Thou suferedst men to ride over our heads: we went through fire and
water, and Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place."

CHAPTER I. "THE DRUSES ARE UP!"

"Great Scott, look at her! She's goin' to try and take 'em!" exclaimed
Osterhaut, the Jack-of-all-trades at Lebanon.

"She ain't such a fool as all that. Why, no one ever done it alone.
Low water, too, when every