dust--a conqueror's hand lay heavy upon her throat; and yet, no matter.
Through the valley of fire and blood and pestilence--one must pass
through these to the great white land."

"Amen!" David Ross cried fervently. "The gift is upon you to-day,
Aaron. Amen!"

The two stood together for a moment, speechless, carried away out of
themselves. Then the door was suddenly opened. The woman stood there,
sour and withered; behind her, a hard-featured man, official,
malevolent.

"We are for the streets!" the woman exclaimed harshly. "He's got the
order."

"Three pounds thirteen or out you go," the man announced, pushing his
way forward. "Here's the paper."

David Ross looked at him as one awakened from a dream.

"Evicted!"

"And d--d well time, too!" the newcomer continued. "You've had all the
chance in the world. How do you expect to make a living, fiddling about
here all day with pencil and paper, and talking Socialist rot at night?
Leave that chair alone and be off, both of you."

They glanced despairingly towards Aaron Thurnbrein. He thrust his hands
into his pockets and exposed them with a little helpless gesture. The
coins he produced were of copper. The official looked at them and