ic, which had exploded and maimed
or killed a number of policemen, injuring slightly several others.
This had brought to the fore, once and for all, as by a flash of
lightning, the whole problem of mass against class, and had given it
such an airing as in view of the cheerful, optimistic, almost
inconsequential American mind had not previously been possible. It
changed, quite as an eruption might, the whole face of the commercial
landscape. Man thought thereafter somewhat more accurately of national
and civic things. What was anarchism? What socialism? What rights had
the rank and file, anyhow, in economic and governmental development?
Such were interesting questions, and following the bomb--which acted as
a great stone cast in the water--these ripple-rings of thought were
still widening and emanating until they took in such supposedly remote
and impregnable quarters as editorial offices, banks and financial
institutions generally, and the haunts of political dignitaries and
their jobs.

In the face of this, however, Cowperwood was not disturbed. He did not
believe in either the strength of the masses or their ultimate rights,
though he sympathized with the condition of individuals, and did
believe that men like himself were sent into the world to better
perfect its mechanism and habitable order. Often now, in these
preliminary days, he looked at the large companies of men with their
horses gathered in and about the several carbarns of the company, and
wondered at their state. So many of them were so dull. They were
rather like animals, patient, inartistic, hopeless. He thought of
their shabby homes, their long hours, their poor pay, and then
concluded that if anything at all could be done for them it would be
pay them decent living wages, which he proposed to do--nothing more.
They could not be expected to understand his dreams or his visions, or
to share in the magnificence and social dominance which he craved. He
finally decided that it would be as well for him to personally visit
the various newspaper publishers and talk the situation over with them.
Addison, when consulted as to this project, was somewhat dubious. He
had small faith in the newspapers.

He had seen them play petty politics, follow up enmities and personal
grudges, and even sell out, in certain cases, for pathetically small
rewards.

"I tell you how it is, Frank," remarked Addison, on one occasion. "You
will have to do all this business o