There is one more familiar figure, not to be omitted, and that is Rex, stretched on the soft grass in an attitude of perfect content, his nose resting on his paws, his eyes fixed on his master's face with the old-time devotion. Beautiful as this picture may be, it is not quite complete without a glimpse of a far-away, eastern home, where, in the gloaming, beside an open grate, sit a couple with peaceful faces, crowned with snow-white hair. They have passed the grand summit of middle age, with its broad horizons, where hope and ambition are at their zenith, and together are journeying down the long, gentle declivity; but the clouds of loss and bereavement and pain that gathered about their path in the years gone by, have passed, and the valley before them is flooded with golden light. Their home circle, once broken, is now nearly complete; the once vacant places by the fireside are again filled, and the old home, silent for so many years, again resounds with song and laughter, and echoes once more to the music of childish voices and the patter of little feet. For hours, they sit talking together of the joys which the late years have brought them; until the moonlight steals in through the open windows, reverently touching their heads with a silvery radiance, at the same time looking down in silent, shining benediction upon the peaceful scene in the heart of the Rockies. FINIS End of Project Gutenberg's The Award of Justice, by A. Maynard Barbour