He had come to his office betimes that morning. He had read his letters, directed his charities, instructed his brokers, given his orders to lieutenants at the state capitals and to such lieutenants at the national capital as needed them. Now he was receiving his fellow commanders in council. "McKay?" he said in thin comment on some remark of Rivington. "What McKay?" "Henry," said Rivington. "Dohan’s successor in the M. & N. He’s the sort of man——" "We can unload this stock," said Hallett, "any time now." Rivington began a question. "It’s all right," nodded Hallett. "And by the way, that little Forbes concern’s come into the combine." "I know," said Rivington; "but those letters—You remember——" "Stein sent ’em over to me yesterday morning. We’ll burn ’em this time." The man at the head of the table rapped with his spatulate finger-ends. "We are too busy to bother with trifles," he said. "I’ve got here"—he indicated the memoranda—"all the reports on the proposed foodstuffs monopoly. I must decide on that right away...." After a momentary silence, the stock-ticker, with metallic insistence, went on weaving out its yards of tape beside the windows that looked down to the web of radiating streets, on which minute black objects that were men and women bobbed and buzzed like entangled flies.... THE END * * * * * * * * *BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR* THE HOUSE OF BONDAGE THE GIRL THAT GOES WRONG THE SENTENCE OF SILENCE THE WAY OF PEACE WHAT IS SOCIALISM? RUNNING SANDS THE THINGS THAT ARE CÆSAR’S ETC., ETC.