"Just as foreign immigrants are jugging through timber steals to-day," thought Wayland; but he answered; "I acknowledge all that, Senator; but when goods are stolen, the owner has the right to take them back where found; and that land was stolen from the U. S. Reserves--ninety-million dollars worth of it." "I know! I know! But what have _you_ gained? _That_ is what I ask! Federal Government has blocked every move you have made to take action for these lands, hasn't it? Very soon, the Statute of Limitations will block _you_ altogether." The Senator shifted a knee. Wayland waited. "You have gained nothing--less than nothing: you have laid up a lot of ill will for yourself that will block your promotion. Been four years here, haven't you, at seventy-five dollars a month? I pay my cow men more; and _they_ haven't spent five years at Yale. Now take the timber cases. You hold the Smelter shouldn't take free timber from the Forests?" "No more than the poorest thief who steals a stick of wood from a yard--" "Pah! Poor man! Dismiss that piffle from your brain! What does the poor man do for the Valley? Why does any man stay poor in this land? Because he is no good! We've brought in thousands of workmen. We've built up a city. We have developed this State." "All for your own profit--" "Exactly! What else does the poor man work for? But I'm not going to argue that kindergarten twaddle of the college highbrows, Wayland. I'm out for all I can make; so is the Smelter; so are you; but the point is you've fought this timber thing; you have filed and filed and filed your recommendations for suit to be instituted; so have the Land Office men; have they done any good, Wayland? Has your boasted Federal Government, so superior to the State, taken any action?" "No," answered Wayland, "somebody has monkeyed with the wheels of justice."