of reform is a history of disappointment. The
reform works, of course. But in working it does only the one little
trick it is intended to do, and the long chain of incidental blessings
which should follow, which the reformers feel must inevitably follow,
wait for other reformers to bring them into being. So there is always
plenty of work for the social tinker, and no one man ever built a
millennium. For God is ever jealous for our progeny, and leaves an
unfinished job always on the work bench of the world.

Grant Adams believed that he had a mission to bring labor into its own.
The coming of the Democracy of Labor was a real democracy to him--no
mere shibboleth. And as he rode through the rows of wooden tenements,
where he knew men and women were being crushed by the great industrial
machine, he thought of the tents in the fields; of the women and
children and of the old and the sick going out there to labor through
the day to piece out the family wage and secure economic independence
with wholesome, self-respecting work. It seemed to him that when he
could bring the conditions that were starting in Harvey, to every great
industrial center, one great job in the world would be done forever.

So he drummed his iron claw on the seat before him, put his hard hand
upon his rough face, and smiled in the joy of his high faith.

Dick Bowman and his boy left Grant at the car. He waved his claw at
little Ben when they parted, and sighed as he saw the little fellow
scampering to shaft No. 3 of the Wahoo Fuel Company's mines. There Grant
lost sight of the child, and went to his work. In two hours he and
Violet Hogan had cleaned off his desk. He had promised the Wahoo Fuel
Company to see that the work of constructing the trocha was started that
afternoon, and when Violet had telephoned to Mechanics' Hall, Grant and
a group of men went to the mines to begin on the trocha. They passed
down the switch into the yards, and Grant heard a brakeman say:

"That Frisco car there has a broken brake--watch out for her."

And a switchman reply:

"Yes--I know it. I tried to get the yardmaster not to send her down. But
we'll do what we can."

The brakeman on the car signaled for the engineer to pull the other cars
away, and leave the Frisco car at the top of a slight grade, to be
shoved down by the men when another car was needed at the loading chute.
Grant walked toward the loading chute, and a roar from the falling coal
filled his ears.