When Robert Brent entered rather diffidently the magnificent chamber a few minutes later, he found himself the object of an interest that was rather disconcerting. As he advanced up the room by the side of the secretary, the president of the conference suddenly left his high seat and came to meet him. In an instant every man present followed his example. The young man was surrounded by distinguished potentates, anxious to do him honor. Little was said. It did not seem to be an occasion for many words. Brent grasped the hands held out to him cordially and at length proceeded to a seat by the secretary’s side. When the president had again taken the chair, the secretary formally introduced the young man to the conference, inviting him to explain his position and purpose. Brent faced his small but distinguished audience with evident embarrassment and hesitation. The almost painful eagerness and earnestness in every countenance speedily made it clear to him that his words were awaited with a deference entirely free from criticism. Strong emotion unmasks most faces, and there was fear and admiration and bewilderment still upon the features of the proud men who now hung expectant upon the words of the young American of whose existence they had been ignorant an hour before. Such is the mastery of gold! Brent’s embarrassment gave place to an uncomfortable sense of undeserved power which he had usurped from these, its rightful custodians! It led him to speak deprecatingly, almost apologetically, of himself and his difficulties. He described as fully as he was able the history of his treasure and his operations in the financial world during the previous year. Coming at length to the question at issue, he said: “With the best intentions in the world, I have inflicted great wrongs, especially upon my own country. I have done what I could to repair some of the damage I have caused. But I realize clearly now, as no doubt you do at a glance, that the greatest evil of all is still impending. The simple possession of more than five thousand tons of unknown, unused gold, under the present circumstances, is a crime of which I will not be guilty a moment longer than I can help. I place the fate of this treasure entirely, unreservedly in your hands. I have no personal wishes in the matter, not even any suggestions to offer. The task is too great for me. I assumed it at first without hesitation and with the foolish confidence of ignorance. It seemed to my thoughtless enthusiasm the simplest portion of my plan of gold-getting. I believed, when I had locked the last box of gold in the vault in New York, that my difficulties were practically at an end. The mischief which my blind self-assurance has wrought will be a life-long reproach to me.