in meeting one of his own kind in business affairs, Daunt grabbed
Morrison's hand and pulled the mayor away with him toward the door,
assuring him that he was glad to pitch in, heart and soul, with a man who
had the best interests of a grand state to conserve and develop in the
line of water-power. Then he went on as if quoting from a prospectus.

"When the veins and the arteries of old Mother Earth have been drained of
the coal and oil, Mr. Morrison, God's waters will still be flowing along
the valleys, roaring down the cliffs, ready to turn the wheels of
commerce. On the waters we must put our dependence. They are the Creator's
best heritage to His people, in lifting and making light the burden of
labor!" was the promoter's pompous declaration.

"You cannot shout that truth too loudly, sir! I have been crying it,
myself. But I always add with my cry the warning that if the people don't
look sharp, the folks who hogged the other heritages, grabbed the iron,
hooked onto the coal, and have posted themselves at the tap o' the
nation's oil-can, will have the White Coal, too! God will still make water
run downhill, but it will run for the profit of the men who peddle what it
performs. I'll be glad to have you help me in that warning!"

"Exactly!" agreed Mr. Daunt. "When you and I are thoroughly _en rapport_,
we can accomplish wonders." His rush of the willing Morrison to the door
had accomplished one purpose: he had created a diversion that staved off
further political disagreement for the moment. "You must pardon my haste
in being off, Mister Mayor. Senator Corson has promised to motor me along
the river as far as possible before lunch, so that I may inspect the
water-power possibilities. Come, Governor North!" he called.

Daunt again addressed Morrison. "The Senator tells me that your mill