blinded men's eyes and poisoned their souls. A better day was coming, he
said, when this evil system would be changed, and it would be possible
for men to be merciful to one another.

At this point in the conversation, Mary Burke gave voice once more to
her corroding despair. How could things ever be changed? The bosses were
mean-hearted, and the men were cowards and traitors. That left nobody
but God to do the changing--and God had left things as they were for
such a long time!

Hal was interested to hear how Edstrom dealt with this attitude. "Mary,"
he said, "did you ever read about ants in Africa?"

"No," said she.

"They travel in long columns, millions and millions of them. And when
they come to a ditch, the front ones fall in, and more and more of them
on top, till they fill up the ditch, and the rest cross over. We are
ants, Mary."

"No matter how many go in," cried the girl, "none will ever get across.
There's no bottom to the ditch!"

He answered: "That's more than any ant can know. Mary. All they know is
to go in. They cling to each other's bodies, even in death; they make a
bridge, and the rest go over."

"I'll step one side!" she declared, fiercely. "I'll not throw meself
away."