The man was evidently of a mind to bid Mr. Cameron curtly begone. Yet the _Beacon_ was a powerful party organ, and just at this time the Griffin had political ends to serve. Although Mr. Cameron did not ask for the interview in the name of his paper, Inness was a cautious man. That is why he had held his lucrative situation with the Griffin for ten years or more. "I will take your card, Mr. Cameron," he said at last, holding out his hand for the caller's bit of pasteboard. "But I cannot promise you an interview under the circumstances. Mr. Bassett does not like mysteries." "No. He is not going to like this one," rejoined the editor. "Nor do I like it. But I feel it to be my duty to see him." "Mr. Cameron," said Inness dryly, "I would not possess your overpowering sense of duty for worlds," and he walked out of the reception room with the card in his hand. Had the newspaper man come on his own behalf he might have felt some trepidation; but consideration for Joe Bassett and his wife and baby had brought him to the Griffin's office, and he felt no burden of a personal nature upon his mind. When Inness finally beckoned him from the door of the private suite, the caller went quite cheerfully to meet the man whose reputation for being a Tartar was as broad as his financial activities were known. Mr. Henry Bassett beat no round of the bushes; he came directly to the point. "You are John Lewis Cameron, of the _Beacon_," he said. "I do not know you. Inness says your call is not on business for your paper. What do you want?" "I wish to interest you, Mr. Bassett, in the needs of an unfortunate family in which I am interested--but because of no ordinary charitable instinct upon my part or yours. I am no charity collector, nor is this case of destitution one that can be brought to the attention of anybody but yourself." "What do you mean?" demanded the Griffin roughly. "Mrs. Bassett usually attends to all such matters. I do not consider myself a judge of their worth." "There are certain elements in this matter which preclude my speaking to anybody but you about it, Mr. Bassett." The financier looked startled. His continued silence enabled Mr. Cameron to go on: "The people I speak of are a man and his wife and child. They are not ordinary people. I have not known much about them until lately. I find that they live in a frightfully unpleasant neighbourhood, that their surroundings are most uncongenial, and that they lack all the luxuries--even those necessities--which people of respectable bringing-up must have." "Why do you tell me all this?" demanded the millionaire. "Because it concerns you, concerns you deeply. The young woman and her baby may not live through the summer if she is obliged to stay in that horrible apartment which is the best her husband has been able to afford." "Who is he?" shot in Henry Bassett. "He is your son. And his wife and your grandchild are dying in that place they live in. What are you going to do about it?"