I should explain that at the time of which I now write, the historical American financial invasion of Great Britain was in full blast. The billionaire Yankee magnate, J. Stelfox Steele, at the head of his omnivorous trust, had already succeeded in enfolding within his octopus-like tentacles an alarming number of England's richest commercial industries. Not content with having secured our railways, tramways and shipping, his latest achievement had been to form a "combine" of hotel and brewery proprietaries, with the result that two-thirds of the breweries, and almost every important and fashionable hotel within the confines of the kingdom were conducted under his direction, while the entire liquor traffic was absolutely in his grip. This prodigious organization Mr. Stelfox Steele had named--"The Anglo-American Hotels Limited," probably in a spirit of derision, for although all the property was English, the major portion of the profits were designed to travel into Yankee pockets. It had scarcely been registered a company before the British public began to regard it with both fear and loathing, for its first and immediate work of consequence had been slightly to raise the price of beer, and at the same time largely to increase the cost of living in hotels. In palace, public-house and thoroughfares, it constituted the topic of the hour. The fact is, it affected everyone, the highest and the lowest in the land alike, and very seldom could two men foregather for longer than five minutes without the exciting subject being introduced. As the "combine" had, to some extent, victimised me during my residence at the Colonnade Hotel, I shared in the popular indignation, and during my convalescence I had taken pains to make myself thoroughly acquainted with its construction, policy and aims, and I had carefully digested everything that had been published concerning its promoters. Mr. Stelfox Steele's sudden and brilliant appearance in the financial firmament, and his consequent magnificent and uninterruptedly successful career, had, moreover, completely captivated my romantic fancy, and I was quite anxious to hear as much about him as I could. For that reason I became speedily interested in the conversation of two gentlemen who sat at the adjoining table while I dined. They were of interesting appearance, certainly; portly, conventional, bald-headed souls, both; typical men of business, in a large way--perhaps stockbrokers; but the matter of their talk was decidedly exciting and suggestive to a person like myself. "What is this Stelfox Steele like to look at, Gregson? You know him, don't you?" were the first words that attracted my attention, and thereafter I did not lose a syllable. "Well!" replied the other, "I know him in a way. That is to say, I have met him once or twice in business, though I don't suppose he would recognise me if we passed each other in the street ..." "Oh! he is that sort, is he?"