after night, he has
walked the floor until morning. And he will go on that way for days
together, very silent, without a word, and sitting still in his chair,
and then, all of a sudden, he will break out--oh, Mr. Derrick, it is
terrible--into an awful rage, cursing, swearing, grinding his teeth,
his hands clenched over his head, stamping so that the house shakes, and
saying that if S. Behrman don't give him back his money, he will kill
him with his two hands. But that isn't the worst, Mr. Derrick. He goes
to Mr. Caraher's saloon now, and stays there for hours, and listens
to Mr. Caraher. There is something on my son's mind; I know there
is--something that he and Mr. Caraher have talked over together, and
I can't find out what it is. Mr. Caraher is a bad man, and my son has
fallen under his influence." The tears filled her eyes. Bravely, she
turned to hide them, turning away to take Sidney in her arms, putting
her head upon the little girl's shoulder.

"I--I haven't broken down before, Mr. Derrick," she said, "but after we
have been so happy in our little house, just us three--and the future
seemed so bright--oh, God will punish the gentlemen who own the railroad
for being so hard and cruel."

Harran came out on the porch, from the telephone, and she interrupted
herself, fixing her eyes eagerly upon him.

"I think it is all right, Mrs. Dyke," he said, reassuringly. "We know
where he is, I believe. You and the little tad stay here, and Hooven and
I will go after him."

About two hours later, Harran brought Dyke back to Los Muertos in
Hooven's wagon. He had found him at Caraher's saloon, very drunk.

There was nothing maudlin about Dyke's drunkenness. In him the alcohol
merely roused the spirit of evil, vengeful, reckless.

As the wagon passed out from under the eucalyptus trees about the ranch
house, taking Mrs. Dyke, Sidney, and the one-time engineer back to the
hop ranch, Presley leaning from his window heard the latter remark:

"Caraher is right. There is only one thing they listen to, and that's
dynamite."

The following day Presley drove Magnus over to Guadalajara to take the
train for San Francisco. But after he had said good-bye to the Governor,
he was moved to go on to the hop ranch to see the condition of affairs
in that quarter. He returned to Los Muertos overwhelmed with sadness and
trembling with anger. The hop ranch that he had last seen in the full
tide of prosperity was almost a ruin. Work had evid