The clerk stared in undisguised astonishment. “You don't mean to say you didn't know WHO he was--all the while you were talking to him?” “No,” returned Peters, impatiently. “Why, that was Professor Lawrence Grant!--THE Lawrence Grant--don't you know?--the biggest scientific man and recognized expert on the Pacific slope. Why, that's the man whose single word is enough to make or break the biggest mine or claim going! That man!--why, that's the man whose opinion's worth thousands, for it carries millions with it--and can't be bought. That's him who knocked the bottom outer El Dorado last year, and next day sent Eureka up booming! Ye remember that, sure?” “Of course--but”--stammered Peters. “And to think you didn't know him!” repeated the hotel clerk wonderingly. “And here I was reckoning you were getting points from him all the time! Why, some men would have given a thousand dollars for your chance of talking to him--yes!--of even being SEEN talking to him. Why, old Wingate once got a tip on his Prairie Flower lead worth five thousand dollars while just changing seats with him in the cars and passing the time of day, sociable like. Why, what DID you talk about?” Peters, with a miserable conviction that he had thrown away a valuable opportunity in mere idle gossip, nevertheless endeavored to look mysterious as he replied, “Oh, business gin'rally.” Then in the faint hope of yet retrieving his blunder he inquired, “How long will he be here?” “Don't know. I reckon he and Harcourt's got something on hand. He just asked if he was likely to be at home or at his office. I told him I reckoned at the house, for some of the family--I didn't get to see who they were--drove up in a carriage from the 3.40 train while you were sitting there.”