The Heart's Kingdom

"Money couldn't build anything like it, Powers," he said to Nickols at

his side. "Time and gentle living have formed it as a jewel is made in a

matrix. I was born in a mining camp, but I want you to start something

like it all for my great grandchildren to live in. How many generations

will it take?"

"Give me five years, Mr. Jeffries," laughed Nickols in answer. "Greg

Goodloe's great great grandfather and mine fought off the Indians from

a stockade which stood where his chapel does now, but a year of modern

life about represents a generation of pioneer endeavor."

"Not too fast, youngster, not too fast," said Mr. Jeffries, and I saw

him exchange a grave glance with father. "What we Americans must have is

stabilizers now that we have annihilated time. Without the discovery of

something of that sort we will hurl along to destruction. What say you,

Mr. Goodloe?"

"We have the same 'covert of wings' that David used when things spun too

fast for him," answered Mr. Goodloe with the jeweled radiance that

always came from his face when he spoke of his faith even casually.

"Only 'where there is no vision the people perish,' and a people who

invent flying machines and hold international law to account have

vision. We don't know how much we've got, but it'll save us."

"After the material glass through which we see darkly is completely

smashed for us," said father, with a curious sternness coming into his

face that made me wonder. "But we must take Mr. Jeffries for a nearer

inspection of our metropolis, be with Mrs. Sproul in time for luncheon

and then help Mr. Goodloe open the institute of learning for young

Goodloets."

In the motor cars parked before the tall gate of the Poplars all of the

guests embarked for their review of the beauties of Goodloets. Nickols

remained behind them while the half sober but skillful Jefferson

wrestled with a slight tire trouble of his slim blue racer. For a few

minutes we were alone in the center of the wonderful garden, which had

never seemed so lovely as upon the day in which it had fulfilled its own

and Nickols' destiny.

"To-day has brought just what I have longed for, have worked for and

waited for, the commission for the spending of millions of dollars to

make a little corner of the earth beautiful. Not a bad religion, that,"

said Nickols, as he told me that Jeffries had spoken a few words of

decided business to him as he had packed him into Mr. Cockrell's car

with father and Mr. Goodloe. "We'll take a honeymoon wander on the other

side, as far from the machine guns as possible, and then I'll come home

to begin my masterpiece." And as Nickols spoke his wonderful eyes

glowed as he looked out at Paradise Ridge as if he were gazing into a

radiant future--perhaps he saw a city not made with hands and did

not--recognize it. "I see it all," he said, and put his arm around me

while we started down the front walk as Jefferson pressed the horn to

signal the readiness of the tire.