he truck as he concluded:
"But it's all I have--all the dream I have now. 'All of which I saw, and
part of which I was,' yet," he mused, "perhaps it will be used as a
foundation upon which something real and beautiful will be builded."

Far away the headlight of their approaching train twinkled upon the
prairie horizon. The two men watched it glow into fire and come upon
them. And without resuming their talk, each went his own wide, weary way
in the world as they lay in adjoining berths on the speeding train.

At the general election the Doctor's law was upheld by a majority of the
votes in the State, but the Doctor himself was defeated for reelection
to the State Senate in his own district. Grant Adams waited, intently
and with fine faith, for this law to bring in the millennium. But the
Doctor had no millennial faith.

He came down town the morning after his defeat, gay and unruffled. He
went toddling into the stores and offices of Market Street, clicking his
cane busily, thanking his friends and joking with his foes. But he
chirruped to Henry Fenn and Kyle Perry whom he found in the Serenity at
the close of the day: "Well, gentlemen, I've seen 'em all! I've taken my
medicine like a little man; but I won't lick the spoon. I sha'n't go and
see Dan and Tom. I'm willing to go as far as any man in the forgiving
and forgetting business, but the Lord himself hasn't quit on them. Look
at 'em. The devil's mortgage is recorded all over their faces and he's
getting about ready to foreclose on old Dan! And every time Dan hears
poor Morty cough, the devil collects his compound interest. Poor, dear,
gay Morty--if he could only put up a fight!"

But he could not put up a fight and his temperature rose in the
afternoon and he could not meet with his gymnasium class in South Harvey
in the evening, but sent a trainer instead. So often weeks passed during
which Laura Van Dorn did not see Morty and the daily boxes of flowers
that came punctiliously with his cards to the kindergarten and to Violet
Hogan's day nursery, were their only reminders of the sorry, lonely,
footless struggle Morty was making.

It was inevitable that the lives of Violet Hogan and Laura Van Dorn in
South Harvey should meet and merge. And when they met and merged, Violet
Hogan found herself devoting but a few hours a day to her day nursery,
while she worked six long, happy hours as a stenographer for Grant Adams
in his office at the Vanderbilt House. For, after