They came running, her companions, eager with question and
suggestion. And hard upon their heels a teamster from the road
broke through the thicket, summoned by their calls for help. He
stooped to pick up something that his foot had struck. It was a
bottle. He looked at it and then at Jeff.

"Nothing the matter with him, Miss, but just plain drunk," the man
said with a grin. "He's been sleeping it off."

Jeff felt the quiver run through her. She rose, trembling, and
with one frightened sidelong look at him walked quickly away. He
had seen a wound in her eyes he would not soon forget. It was as
if he had struck her down while she was holding out hands to help
him.


CHAPTER 5

Lies need only age to make them respectable. Given that, they
become traditions and are put upon a pedestal. Then the gentlest
word for him who attacks them is traitor.
--From the Note Book of a Dreamer.


THE REBEL FOLLOWS THE RAMIFICATIONS OF BIG BUSINESS AND FINDS THAT
THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY ARE NOT IN POLITICS FOR THEIR HEALTH


Part 1