'I know it is. I can't give you much information about the matter. I don't know myself, to tell the truth, but I know it is vitally important that we should get a synopsis of what the reports of these young men are to be. A company, called the London Syndicate, has been formed in England. This syndicate is to acquire a large number of mines in Canada, if the accounts given by the present owners are anything like correct. Two men, Kenyon and Wentworth--the first a mining engineer, and the second an experienced accountant--have been sent from London to Canada, one to examine the mines, the other to examine the books of the various corporations. Whether the mines are bought or not will depend a good deal on the reports these two men have in their possession. The reports, when published, will make a big difference, one way or the other, on the Stock Exchange. I want to have the gist of them before the London Syndicate sees them. It will be a big thing for the _Argus_ if it is the first in the field, and I am willing to spend a pile of hard cash to succeed. So, don't economize on your cable expenses.' 'Very well; have you a book on Canadian mines?' 'I don't know that we have; but there is a book here, "The Mining Resources of Canada;" will that be of any use?' 'I shall need something of that sort. I want to be a little familiar with the subject, you know.' 'Quite so,' said the editor; 'I will see what can be got in that line. You can read it before you start, and on the way over.' 'All right,' said Miss Jennie; 'and am I to take my pick of the two young men?' 'Certainly,' answered the editor. 'You will see them both, and can easily make up your mind which will the sooner fall a victim.' 'The _Caloric_ sails in a week, does it?' 'Yes.' 'Then I shall need at least five hundred dollars to get new dresses with.' 'Good gracious!' cried the editor. 'There is no "good gracious" about it. I'm going to travel as a millionaire's daughter, and it isn't likely that one or two dresses will do me all the way over.' 'But you can't get new dresses made in a week,' said the editor. 'Can't I? Well, you just get me the five hundred dollars, and I'll see about the making.' The editor jotted the amount down. 'You don't think four hundred dollars would do?' he said. 'No, I don't. And, say, am I to get a trip to Paris after this is over, or must I come directly back?' 'Oh, I guess we can throw in the trip to Paris,' said the editor. 'What did you say the names of the young men are?--or are they not young? Probably they are old fogies, if they are in the mining business.' 'No; they are young, they are shrewd, and they are English. So you see your work is cut out for you. Their names are George Wentworth and John Kenyon.' 'Oh, Wentworth is my man,' said the young woman breezily. 'John Kenyon! I know just what sort of a person he is--sombre and taciturn. Sounds too much like John Bunyan, or John Milton, or names of that sort.'