“These general assurances are about all that I am able to give you at this time. Upon three points I am compelled to be reticent--the source of this gold, its total amount, and the identity of its owner or owners. Regarding the first and second, I am as ignorant as you are. Your request for information about further additions to the bullion supply--for that is what the question amounts to--I, personally, do not consider unreasonable. I will deliver it at once to my principals and you shall have the answer promptly.” “How soon will it probably be ready?” asked the chairman. “I know of no reason why you should not have it to-morrow.” “Why should we not discuss it at a quiet dinner at the Waldorf to-morrow night?” suggested the chairman. “I must return to Washington by the midnight train to-night, unfortunately,” observed the secretary of the treasury. “Let me say right here that I accept Mr. Wharton’s assurances in the fullest sense. What he has already said has relieved me of a great anxiety, and I want to express to him my hearty thanks for the commendable spirit which he and those he represents show in a matter of vital importance to the nation.” The words were uttered with a warm sincerity which manifestly voiced the spirit of all in the room. “We all join unreservedly in that sentiment,” was the cordial indorsement of the chairman. “If haste is important,” Wharton interrupted, “there is no reason why I should not be able to communicate the reply to you this evening.” “Just the thing,” responded two or three. “Let us have the dinner to-night. If the answer is ready, well and good. If not, we can meet again to-morrow.” And so it was arranged. The party met again at seven o’ clock that evening in one of the finest private dining-rooms of the most sumptuous of modern hotels. It was not the serious gathering of the morning. Millionaires and other magnates are much like other men. Finance was the one subject tabooed while the dinner was before them, Wharton was rather surprised to find that no delicate attempts to sound his secret knowledge were made by any one. Beyond asking him if he had received a reply to the morning request, no word was said about the matter which most concerned all present until the dinner was finished and the last waiter had closed the door behind him. Then, while the fumes of the best tobacco began to fill the air, the general conversation flagged, and the company turned expectantly toward the head of the table where sat the chairman of the bank committee with the secretary of the treasury at his right and John Wharton at his left. “There are to be no formalities, gentlemen,” remarked the president pleasantly. “We are all anxious to hear Mr. Wharton’s message, and I will ask him to present it to us, if he is willing, without further delay.”