until life takes him by the scruff of the neck and shakes him up and proves
to him that things change and a pup's world changes and he had better
accustom himself to new standards or be shaken up again.

So they sped on through the low waves while the Tower loomed nearer and
taller before them. Gunnar was guiding with one hand while he talked into
a little square box of gleaming metal.

He turned his head, and the boat careened into a trough that set it to
shaking. "I have contacted Wolden and Ato," he called cheerfully. "They are
meeting us at the dock. Not the old dock--it is still under water. The new
one is farther up the street."

* * * * *

As they neared Orthe-Gard, Gunnar slowed the boat. Looking down into the
murky water, Jack Odin could detect, now and then, the faintly-traced
shadow of a roof or tower. Once as he looked down at a finely-carved
weather-vane, a huge fang-fish rolled between him and his view. A white
belly gleamed through the water, and a serrated mouth opened wide. Its jaws
bent out of proportion by the refraction of the water, it reminded Odin of
the old story of the Monster of Chaos rushing with gaping mouth to swallow
the works of men.

Then they were at the dock, which was scarcely a dock at all but a place
where the waters ended halfway up the sloping streets of the city.

One thing had not changed. To the last the people of Opal refused to take
part in any governmental excitement. A car was there. A driver. Wolden was
there looking much thinner and grayer. Beside him was his son, Ato, inches
taller and perhaps a bit thicker in the shoulders and a bit thinner at the
waist. These were all.

He had nearly broken his neck half a dozen times to get there, but Jack
Odin was glad that the old idea had survived. Being reared so near to
Washington, he had been puzzled for years over his country's mile-long
processions and the spectacle of thousands rushing to watch a parade for
some visiting celebrity or some current politician who would be forgotten
before the next snow.

He and Wolden shook hands. Odin was surprised at the change in him. When
last seen, Wolden had been a man just leaving the prime of life. Too
much of a brain, perhaps. A bit too curious and a bit too fearful of the
affairs of the world. But now the hand was weak--the face was thinner
and grayer, although even nobler than it had been, but the eyes were sad
and pained as though they had see