om of the ranch house; the rabbit drive; the fight at the
irrigating ditch, the shouting mob in the Bonneville Opera House. The
drama was over. The fight of Ranch and Railroad had been wrought out
to its dreadful close. It was true, as Shelgrim had said, that forces
rather than men had locked horns in that struggle, but for all that the
men of the Ranch and not the men of the Railroad had suffered. Into the
prosperous valley, into the quiet community of farmers, that galloping
monster, that terror of steel and steam had burst, shooting athwart the
horizons, flinging the echo of its thunder over all the ranches of the
valley, leaving blood and destruction in its path.

Yes, the Railroad had prevailed. The ranches had been seized in the
tentacles of the octopus; the iniquitous burden of extortionate freight
rates had been imposed like a yoke of iron. The monster had killed
Harran, had killed Osterman, had killed Broderson, had killed Hooven. It
had beggared Magnus and had driven him to a state of semi-insanity after
he had wrecked his honour in the vain attempt to do evil that good might
come. It had enticed Lyman into its toils to pluck from him his manhood
and his honesty, corrupting him and poisoning him beyond redemption; it
had hounded Dyke from his legitimate employment and had made of him
a highwayman and criminal. It had cast forth Mrs. Hooven to starve to
death upon the City streets. It had driven Minna to prostitution. It had
slain Annixter at the very moment when painfully and manfully he had at
last achieved his own salvation and stood forth resolved to do right, to
act unselfishly and to live for others. It had widowed Hilma in the very
dawn of her happiness. It had killed the very babe within the mother's
womb, strangling life ere yet it had been born, stamping out the spark
ordained by God to burn through all eternity.

What then was left? Was there no hope, no outlook for the future, no
rift in the black curtain, no glimmer through the night? Was good to be
thus overthrown? Was evil thus to be strong and to prevail? Was nothing
left?

Then suddenly Vanamee's words came back to his mind. What was the larger
view, what contributed the greatest good to the greatest numbers? What
was the full round of the circle whose segment only he beheld? In the
end, the ultimate, final end of all, what was left? Yes, good issued
from this crisis, untouched, unassailable, undefiled.

Men--motes in the sunshine--perished,