then stepped back to watch the result.

For a moment, in the joy of anticipation, a strange light illuminated
his face, his lips parted as in a foretasted wonder, and he forgot even
to drop the hand he had just withdrawn. The boy held his breath
unconsciously till he was nearly dizzy.

Then a despairing cry burst from the wretched man's lips, he threw up
his hands as if he had been shot through the heart, and stumbled
backwards.

The Motor stood still, motionless as ever, and gleaming under the
brightly shining lamps.

"Oh, Helen! God forgive me!"

With the words he fell heavily to the floor, and lay there, a nerveless,
breathless heap. Newton was kneeling beside him in an instant.

"Father!" cried the boy in agony, bending over the still white face.
"Father! Speak to me! You can't be dead--you can't--"

In his mortal terror the lad held each breath till it seemed as if his
head must burst, then breathed once and shut his lips again with all his
strength. Some instinct made him lay his ear to the man's chest to
listen for the beatings of his heart, but he could hear nothing.

Half-suffocated with sudden mingled grief and fright, he straightened
himself on his knees and looked up at the cursed machine that had
wrought such awful destruction.

Then he in turn uttered a cry, but it was low and full of wonder, long
drawn out and trembling as the call of a frightened young wild animal.

The thing was moving, steadily, noiselessly moving in the bright light;
the double levers worked like iron jaws opening and shutting regularly,
the little valve-rods rose and sank, and the heavy wheel whirled round
and round. The boy was paralysed with amazement, and for ten seconds he
forgot that he was kneeling beside his father's fallen body on the
floor; then he felt it against him and it was no longer quite still.

Overholt groaned and turned upon his side as his senses slowly came back
and his agony tortured him to life again. Instantly the boy bent over
him.

"Father! It's going! Wake up, father! The wheel's going round at last!"

IX

HOW THE KING OF HEARTS MADE A FEAST IN THE CITY OF HOPE

When Overholt understood what he heard, he opened his eyes and looked up
into his son's face, moving his head mournfully from side to side as it
lay on the boards. But suddenly he caught sight of the engine. He gasped
for breath, his jaw dropped, and his eyes were starting from their
sockets as he struggled to get up with