the meaning of the present, and the hope of the future.
Yet Doheny does not work altogether by eyesight. His associates note that he will not make important moves on the chessboard of business until the time or something within him seems to be right, and then he moves swiftly, surely, and independently. But until the spirit moves within him, nothing can stir him.
WATCHMAN! WHAT OF THE NIGHT?
Working within his soul at the present time is the question of the future of Mexico. He cannot see it clearly. He can see Los Angeles, in the center of the uncounted wealth of southern California, reaching toward a million population, and note the meaning of an automobile to every five people in the town. He can rejoice as telegrams come from Tampico reporting that the dredging and the river current in the three months this spring have deepened the bar channel from seventeen feet to over twenty-six feet. He is pleased that men of Tampico are now getting more than ten times the wages per day they received before he went there. He is happy to note that every one of them was so well cared for at the Mexican Petroleum Com-
