ow
fringes of cottonwood and bluffs of forbidding spruce, and behind and
over all the silent, majestic mountains. It was a sight to make the soul
of man rise up and say, "I know I stand on the heights of the Eternal!"
Then as his eyes followed the course of the river Grant picked out a
column of thin blue smoke, and knew that Zen was cooking her Sunday
dinner.

The thought turned him to his dusting of the whim-room, and afterwards
to his own kitchen. When he had lunched and dressed he took a stroll
over the hills, thinking a great deal, but finding no answer. On his
return he descried the familiar figure of Linder in a semi-recumbent
position on the porch, and Linder's well-worn car in the yard.

"How goes it, Linder?" he said, cheerily, as he came up. "Is the Big
Idea going to fructify?"

"The Big Idea seems to be all right. You planned it well."

"Thanks. But is it going to be self-supporting--I mean in the matter of
motive power. Would it run if you and I and Murdoch were wiped out?"

"Everything must have a head."

"Democracy must find its own head--must grow it out of the materials
supplied. If it doesn't do that it's a failure, and the Big Idea will
end in being the Big Fizzle. That's why I'm leaving it so severely
alone--I want to see which way it's headed."

"I could suggest another reason," said Linder, pointedly.

"Another reason for what?"

"For your leaving it so severely alone."

"What are you driving at?" demanded Grant, somewhat petulantly. "You are
in a taciturn mood to-day, Linder."

"Perhaps I am, Grant, and if so it comes from wondering how a man with
as much brains as you have can be such a damned fool upon occasion."

"Drop the riddles, Linder. Let me have it in the face."

"It's just like this, Grant, old boy," said Linder, getting up and
putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "I feel that I still have an
interest in the chap who saved all of me except what this empty sleeve
stands for, and it's that interest which makes me speak about something
which you may say is none of my business. I was out here Monday night to
see you, and you were not at home. I came out again Wednesday, and you
were not at home. I came last night and you were not at home, and had
not come back at midnight. Your horses were in the barn; you were not
far away."

"Why didn't you telephone me?"

"If I hadn't cared more for you than I do for my job and the Big Idea
thrown in I could have settled it that w