The judge was still making remarks; the jury were listening restlessly; the prisoners at the bar seemed little interested in the occasion. I kept saying to myself: "Society! In behalf of society! I have done my duty in behalf of society." But what was this almighty society, anyhow, save a lot of fools and scamps with a sprinkling of strong souls, who were fighting for life--all of them fighting for what only a few could get? My eyes rested on Hostetter's face in the crowd. His jaw was hanging open, and he was staring at the judge, trying to understand it all. Poor Ed! _He_ wouldn't have much show in the scramble if society didn't protect him. Suddenly a meaning to it all came to me like a great light. The strong must rule: the world was for the strong. It was the act of an idiot to deny that truth. Yes, life was for the strong, all there was in it! I saw it so then, and I have lived it so all my life.... [Illustration: "_My! I tell you I'll be glad to get home to-night._"] The man from Steele's nudged my elbow:-- "My! I tell you I'll be glad to get home to-night. Won't the old woman's food taste slick to-night? You bet." "The jury is discharged." The play was over. The spectators were moving from the crowded room. At the door my friends were waiting for me. Hillary Cox stretched up a thin hand. "Thank you, Van," she said. "You fellows did just right," Hostetter added. Slocum said nothing, but there was a dubious smile on his lips. "We're going to blow you off for a dinner at the Palmer House, the best you ever ate," Dick Pierson called out loudly. Then he added for the benefit of the onlookers, "To hell with the anarchists!" "Quit that!" I said sharply, some of those queer doubts about the justice of the act I had been concerned in returning to me. "It's over now, and let's drop it." It was good to be out on the streets once more, knocking elbows with folks, and my heart soon began to feel right. In the lobby of the hotel men I didn't know, who recognized me as one of the famous jury, came up to me and shook hands and said pleasant things. Before the dinner was far along I was quite myself again, and when Slocum set up the champagne for the party, I had begun to feel rather proud of the part I had taken in public affairs. After all, it was a fine thing to live and hustle with your neighbors for the dollars. I had done my part to make the game go on smoothly. At the Yards, the next morning, it was the same thing: my desk was covered with flowers, and the boys kept me busy shaking hands and taking in the cigars until I thought I was at a church presentation party. Big John was one of the first to welcome me back. "Say! do you want a vacation? The old man thinks a month or two would be the right thing. Enjoy yourself, my boy, after your arduous duty!" "Shoo!" I replied. "What would I do with a month's vacation, John? I've just pined to be back here at work. What do I want to light out for now?"