ls of the works below the dam. They patrolled also the
street and the road above and below the camp.

Well paid human labor had erected this great dam, mixed with the
returned soldiers and a small per cent of labor sometimes sullen, with
no affection for its work. In time among such as these came agents of
a new and vast discontent, some who spoke of a "rule of reason,"
meaning thereby the crazed European rule of ignorant selfishness,
others who spoke of "violence" as the only remedy for labor against
capital. With what promises they deluded labor, with what hopes of any
change, with what possibilities of later benefits, with what chimeras
of an easier, unearned day, it matters not. They found listeners.

Against these covert forces working for the destruction of our
civilization, our Government developed an unsuspected efficiency,
sometimes through its department of justice, sometimes through a vast
and silent civilian body of detectives working all over the country and
again through its franker agencies of the military arm. Thus that able
engineer who had built the great power dam here at the Two Forks--a man
who had built a half score of railroads and laid piers for bridges
without number, and planned city monuments, with the boldest and most
fertile of imaginations, Friedrich Waldhorn his name, was a graduate of
our best institutions and those of Germany--long since had been watched
as closely as many another of less importance in charge of work
remotely or intimately concerned with the country's public resources.

Waldhorn--before the war an outspoken Socialist and free-thinker--may
have known that he was watched--must have known it when a young medical
officer given military duties quite outside his own profession, was put
over him in authority at the scene of his engineering triumph, and at
precisely the time of its climax. But the situation for Waldhorn was
this, that if he resigned and left the place he would only come the
more closely under immediate espionage. Whatever his motives, he
remained, sullen and uncommunicative.

Meanwhile the little camp sprawled in the sun, scattered along the
plateau on the side of the mountain gorge. Crude, unpainted, built of
logs or raw boards, it lay in the shadow for the greater part of the
day, deep down in the narrow cleft of the mountains, far out in the
wilderness. The great forest deepened and thickened, back of it, forty
miles into the high country.

Thos