controlled the _Bugle_ in addition to countless other
industries and interests of Greenstream. This article
could not have been printed without Simmons'
cognizance, his co-operation. It was the crown of
his long and victorious struggle with Gordon Makimmon.
The storekeeper had sold him the options
knowing that the railroad was not coming to the valley --
some inhibition had arisen in the negotiations
-- he had destroyed him with Gordon's own blindness,
credulity. And he had walked like a rat into
the trap.

The bitter irony of it rose in a wave of black mirth
to his twisted lips; he, Gordon Makimmon, was exposed
as an avaricious schemer with the prospects
of Greenstream, with men's hopes, with their
chances. While Simmons, it was plainly intimated,
had labored faithfully and in vain for the people.

He rose and shook his clenched hands above his
head. "If I had only shot him!" he cried. "If
I had only shot him at first!"

It was too late now: nothing could be gained by
crushing the flickering vitality from that aged, pinkish
husk. It was, Gordon dimly realized, a greater
power than that contained by a single individual, by
Valentine Simmons, that had beaten him. It was a
stupendous and materialistic force against the metallic
sweep of which he had cast himself in vain -- it
was the power, the unconquerable godhead, of gold.

[[339]]

p338 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p339w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p340

v?