pon their heads, their throats were parched, their lips
were black, they foamed at the mouth. On their knees they begged and
prayed for water; he took not even the trouble to reply. He kept
himself cool and refreshed with his endless supply; he poured it
upon his head, he bathed his lips and drank. So he passed on, and
the people around died, cursing him. Last of all, one who had seen
his wife sob out her last breath in his arms, more terrible still
had heard his little child shriek with agony, clutch at him and pray
for water--he saw the truth, and what power there is above so guided
his arm that he struck. The man paid the just price for his colossal
greed. The vultures plucked his heart out in the desert. So died
Rosario!"

Arnold shook his head.

"The cases are not similar, Isaac," he declared.

"You lie!" Isaac shrieked. "There is not a hair's-breadth of
difference! Rosario earned his wealth in an office hung with costly
pictures; he earned it lounging in ease in a padded chair, earned it
by the monkey tricks of a dishonest brain. Never an honest day's
work did he perform in his life, never a day did he stand in the
market-place where the weaker were falling day by day. In fat
comfort he lived, and he died fittingly on the portals of a
restaurant, the cost of one meal at which would have fed a dozen
starving children. Pity Rosario! Pity his soul, if you will, but not
his dirty body!"

"The man is dead," Arnold muttered.

"Dead, and let him rot!" Isaac cried fiercely. "There may be
others!"

He caught up his cloth cap and, without another word, left the room.
Arnold looked after him curiously, more than a little impressed by
the man's passionate earnestness. Ruth, on the other hand, was
unmoved.

"Isaac is Isaac," she murmured. "He sees life like that. He would
wear the flesh off his bones preaching against wealth. It is as
though there were some fire inside which consumed him all the time.
When he comes back, he will be calmer."

But Arnold remained uneasy. Isaac's words, and his attitude of
pent-up fury, had made a singular impression upon him. For those few
moments, the Hyde Park demagogue with his frothy vaporings existed
no longer. It seemed to Arnold as though a flash of the real fire
had suddenly blazed into the room.

"If Isaac goes about the world like that, trouble will come of it,"
he said thoughtfully. "Have you ever heard him speak of Rosario
before?"

"Never," she answered. "I have hear