because so many other contributors had preceded the stage driver.  In fact, it was not a world for a lady with a train, though Eleanor saw some trollopy immigrant “ladies” emerging from a big tent on a back lot decked with tawdry lace and sporting trains in inverse proportions to the sufficiency of their “h’s.”  Nor was it a perfumed world.  She could smell the reek of the whiskey saloons all down the street—­eleven of them, there were in a succession of twelve buildings; and the twelfth building, if Eleanor had known it, was a gambling joint of the Chinese variety that had iron shutters and iron doors and signs up for “Gentlemen Only.”  Let us hope, dear reader, that “gentlemen only” entered behind the dark of those iron doors!  She could not help wondering had the old day passed forever in the West.  Was a new day not dawning?  What was to become of all these incoming people?  Could the cattle barons and the sheep kings and the land rings fence them off the vast, broad, idle acres forever?

Yet this was the world where her father had come penniless, a refugee from miscarried justice, and had won out.  It was the world where he had been shot down by some miserable, criminal assassin, who, it was more than likely, had mistaken him for Wayland.  It was Wayland’s world, a world in the making.  Well had Matthews designated it—­The United States of the World!  More Jews than in Palestine; more Germans than in Berlin; more Italians than in Rome; more Russians than in St. Petersburg; more Canadians than in any four Canadian cities combined; more descendants of the British than in the British Isles—­the United States of the World in the Making!  Was it any wonder crime was rampant; and Democracy rocked to the shock of collision and miscalculation and inexperience; and Righteousness became a tacking to progress, not a straight line, like the zig-zag of the ship making headway all the time, but tacking back and forward to wind and current?  It was good to be alive and take part in the making of the United States of the World!

She had had breakfast and luncheon in her apartments.  At mid-day, she saw Wayland coming along the thronged main street.  At every step, some man stopped him to shake hands; and groups turned and gazed after him as he passed, and spat their approval or disapproval with great emphasis at the mottled pavement.  Below the window, a big Swede grabbed his two shoulders with the grip of a steam crane.

“Say, you Vaylan’, huh?” he asked.  “Say, you a’ right!  You ever need yob, Vaylan’, you ’ply our union!  Huh?” and he laughed, and went on; and the tears welled to Eleanor’s eyes.

Then came the lawyer to read the will; and after the lawyer’s departure, Matthews had told her how she concerned his errand down from the North; and when the door closed on Matthews, she burst into tears.