Howland felt a grip on his arm.

Dumbly he turned and looked into the white, staring face of the superintendent.

His ears tingled, every fiber in him seemed unstrung.

MacDonald's voice came to him strange and weird.
"What do you think of that, Howland ?" The two men gripped hands, and when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred the path of the new road to the bay.
Howland talked but little on their way back to camp.

The scene that he had just witnessed affected him strangely; it stirred once more within him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither found voice in words.