shovel over my face--his own boy." Grant
shuddered and drew the child closer to him, and looked at the group near
him with wet eyes. "Ira Dooley and Tom Williams and that little Italian
went on their bellies, half dead from the smoke, out into death and
brought home three men to safety, and would have died without batting an
eye--all three to save one lost man in that passage." He beat the table
again with his fist and cried wildly: "I tell you that's the Holy Ghost.
I know those men may sometimes trick the company if they can. I know Ira
Dooley spends lots of good money on 'the row'; I know Tom gambles off
everything he can get his hands on, and that the little Dago probably
would have stuck a knife in an enemy over a quarter. But that doesn't
count."

The young man's voice rose again. "That is circumstance; much of it is
surroundings, either of birth or of this damned place where we are
living. If they cheat the company, it is because the company dares them
to cheat and cheats them badly. If they steal, it is because they have
been taught to steal by the example of big, successful thieves. I've had
time to think it all out.

"Father--father!" cried Grant, as a new wave of emotion surged in from
the outer bourne of his soul, "you once said Dick Bowman sold out the
town and took money for voting for the Harvey Improvement bond steal.
But what if he did? That was merely circumstance. Dick is a little man
who has had to fight for money all his life--just enough money to feed
his hungry children. And here came an opportunity to get hold of--what
was it?--a hundred dollars--" Amos Adams nodded. "Well, then, a hundred
dollars, and it would buy so much, and leading citizens came and told
him it was all right--men we have educated with our taxes and our
surplus money in universities and colleges. And we haven't educated
Dick; we've just taught him to fight--to fight for money, and to think
money will do everything in God's beautiful world. So Dick took it. That
was the Dick that man and Harvey and America made, father, but I saw the
Dick that God made!" He stopped and cried out passionately, "And some
day, some day all the world must know this man--this great-souled,
common American--that God made!"

Grant's voice was low, but a thousand impulses struggled across his
features for voice and his eyes were infinitely sad as he gazed at the
curly, brown hair of the child in his arms playing with the buttons on
his coat.

The