central point, he moved it along one line extending farther than the
rest until it stopped at a small square in which was the word "City."
This action gave him much satisfaction and a pleased expression lighted
up his face. "Power, power," he murmured. "Ay, quicker than thought,
and bright as the sun shining in its strength. Great, wonderful! and
yet they do not realise it. But they shall know, and understand."

Along the other lines he also ran his finger, pausing at the end of
each where was marked "Town," "Village," or "Settlement." He talked
continually as he did so, but it was all about "glory" and "power."
Over and over again he repeated these words, now in a soft low voice,
and again in a loud triumphant manner.

At length he rose from the bench, crossed the room, opened the door,
and stepped outside. Not a star was to be seen, and the wind was
stronger than ever. It was keen, piercing. But the man heeded neither
the one nor the other. He was listening intently, and the faint sound
of Break Neck Falls drifting in from the distance was to him the
sweetest of music.

And as he stood there a sudden change took place. His dead drooped,
and he leaned against the side of the building for support. A shiver
shook his body, and as he turned and entered the house his steps were
slow, and he half-stumbled across the threshold. He looked at the
wood-box behind the stove, but there was not a stick in it. He next
opened the door of the little cupboard near by, but not a scrap of food
was there. Almost mechanically he thrust his hand into his pocket and
brought forth a purse. This he opened, but there was nothing inside.
Half-dazed he stood there in the centre of the room. Then he glanced
toward the paper with the drawings lying upon the table, and as he did