CHAPTER XXXVIII.
VISIONS.
Thus perished Flint and Waldron, scourges of the earth.

Thus they died, slain by the very force which they had planned would betray mankind and deliver it into their chains.

Thus vanished, forever, the most sinister and cruel minds ever evolved upon this planet; the greatest menace the human race had ever known; the evil Masters of the World.
And as they died, massed around their perished Air Trust plant, a throng of silent, earnest watchers stood, with faces illumined by the symbolic, sacrificial flames--a throng of emancipated workers, of toilers from whose bowed shoulders now forever had been lifted the frightful menace of a universal bondage.
Explosion after explosion burst from the tortured Inferno of the vast plant.

Buildings came crashing, reeling, thundering down; walls fell, amid vast, belching clouds of dust and smoke; a white, consuming sheet of flame crackled across the sinister and evil place; and in its wake glowed incandescent ruins.
Then, in one final burst of thunderous tumult, the hugest tank of all, exploding with a roar like that of Doom itself, hurled belching flames on high.
For many miles--in Buffalo, Rochester, Toronto and scores of cities on both sides of the Great Lakes--silent multitudes watched the glare against the midnight sky; and many wept for joy; and many prayed.

All understood the meaning of that sight.