For days Rawley watched the might of the rushing Colorado and wondered at the temerity of men who would calmly plan to check its headlong progress to the sea. A splendid dream, he was compelled to own; a dream worthy a better man than old Jess Cramer. But every man must have one vision of great things during his life, else he would lack the spark of immortality. He may distort the vision to baser depths, but to each life is given one dream, one glimpse into the realm of beautiful possibilities. So Jess Cramer had dreamed his dream, had seen his vision, and had held aside the curtain so that others might see.
It interested Rawley in his days of helplessness to observe the reactions of that dream upon the diverse natures that dwelt within the basin. Old Jess Cramer had become a vulture in h
