crashed through the shard of steel, to
serve the will of Man.

The man stood by his water-gun and from its nozzle, the gleaming terror
leapt. At first it was only a slim volley of light, compact and solid as
a shaft of steel. To pierce it would have splintered to pieces the
sharpest sword. It was a core of water, round, glistening and smooth,
yet in its mighty power it was a monster of destruction.

The man was directing it here and there on the face of the hill. It flew
like an arrow from the bow, and wherever he aimed it the hillside seemed
to reel and shudder at the shock. Great cataracts of gravel shot out,
avalanches of clay toppled over; vast boulders were hurled into the air
like heaps of fleecy wool.

Yes, the waters were mad. They were like an angry bull that gored the
hillside. It seemed to melt and dissolve before them. Nothing could
withstand that assault. In a few minutes they would reduce the stoutest
stronghold to a heap of pitiful ruins.

There, where the waters shot forth in their fury, stood their conqueror.
He was one man, yet he was doing the work of a hundred. As he battered
at that bank of clay he exulted in his power. A little turn of the wrist
and a huge mass of gravel crumbled into nothingness. He bored deep holes
in the frozen muck, he hammered his way down to bed rock, he swept it
clean as a floor. There, with the solid force of a battering-ram, he
pounded at the heart of the hill.

The roar deafened him. He heard the crash of falling rock, but he was so
intent on his work he did not hear another man approach. Suddenly he
looked up and saw.

He gave a mighty start, then at once he was calm again. This was the
meeting he had dreaded, longed for, fought against, desired. Primordial
emotions surged within him, but outwardly he gave no sign. Almost
savagely, and with a curious blaze in his eyes he redirected the little
giant.

He waved his hand to the other man.

"Go away!" he shouted.

Mosher refused to budge. The generous living of Dawson had made him
pursy, almost porcine. His pig eyes glittered, and he took off his hat
to wipe some beads of sweat from the monumental baldness of his
forehead. He caressed his coal-black beard with a podgy hand on which a
large diamond sparkled. His manner was arrogance personified. He seemed
to say, "I'll make this man dance to my music."

His rich, penetrating voice pierced through the roar of the "giant."

"Here, turn off your water. I want to sp