Power was rather stunned by the amount of his wealth, and an odd thought darted through his brain that if, in the world of today, no tempter could bribe another Doctor Faustus with the offer of renewed youth, the fiend might pour gold into his chosen victim's pockets. Almost could he feel the mocking phantom at his shoulder; though, indeed, there was none other in the room than the courteous banker. "Great Scott!" the latter was saying. "What a bonanza that mine of yours is! And Bison is growing quite a town. I paid it a flying visit last summer. Have you been there recently? I imagine not, since your cablegram came from Buenos Aires." Bison was a word to evoke shadows; but it sufficed to drive one away just then. "Ah, Bison!" said Power, standing up. "I must go west at once. I have not even made known to MacGonigal my presence in America. He is well, I hope?" "Fatter than ever. There is some talk of his running for governor." "And Jake, the man in charge of the ranch? Did you hear of him when you were in Colorado?" "Yes, indeed. He is married." "Married! Jake!" "More than that, his wife, a pretty little woman, told me she had to threaten a divorce in order to stop him from mounting the little Jakes on what he calls 'plugs' before the kiddies were well out of the perambulator." A clerk announced through a speaking-tube that someone wanted the banker. The conventional, "Ask him to wait one minute," warned Power that this was no hour for gossip. "I can have some money now?" he inquired. "As much as you like." "May I ask--I am a child in these matters--if good diamonds are obtainable in New York, and what I ought to pay for a ring--an engagement ring?" "Our diamonds are not cheap; but they are supposed to be the pick of the market. I think you ought to get a perfect ring for a thousand dollars. By the way, there is quite an accumulation of letters here. Leave your address, and they will be packed and sent to your rooms." Power wrote a check at the counter, and was given a bundle of notes. He went to a well-known jewelry establishment recommended by the bank manager, and asked to be shown some engagement rings. "What size, sir?" inquired an attendant. "Oh, not anything remarkable, but of the best quality." "I mean, sir, what size is the lady's finger?" Power laughed. He realized that he must come down out of the clouds, and pay heed occasionally to the minor phases of life. "I don't know. She has small hands, and, long, tapering fingers," he said, smiling at his own fatuity; for the description might have been a line taken bodily out of nineteen novels among every twenty. "It really doesn't matter, sir," said the shopman, eager to please a new customer. "If you choose a suitable ring, the lady can send or bring it here, and it will be adjusted to the right size without any delay or extra charge." "But she is in England." "Exactly the same conditions apply in our London branch."