“I had to try to earn my own living,” Denby explained, “and diplomacy doesn’t pay much at first even if you have the luck to get an appointment.” Monty looked at him shrewdly. He saw a tall, well set up man who had every appearance of affluence. “You’ve done pretty well for yourself.” Denby smiled, “The age demands that a man put up a good appearance. A financier like you ought not to be deceived.” Monty leaned over the table. “Steve, old man,” he said, a trifle nervously, “I don’t want to butt in on your private affairs, but if you ever want any money you’ll offend me if you don’t let me know. I’ve too much and that’s a fact. Except for putting a bit on Michael’s horses when they run and a bit of a flutter occasionally at Monte Carlo I don’t get rid of much of it. I’ve got heaps. Do you want any?” “Monty,” the other man said quietly, “you haven’t altered. You are still the same generous boy I remember and it’s good for a man like me to know that. I don’t need any money, but if ever I do I’ll come to you.” Monty sighed with relief. His old idol was not hard up and he had not been offended at the suggestion. It was a good world and he was happy. “Steve,” he asked presently, “what did you mean about having enemies and being in danger? That was a joke, wasn’t it?” “We most of us have enemies,” Steven said lightly, “and we are all in danger. For all you know ptomaines are gathering their forces inside you even now.” “You didn’t mean that,” Monty said positively. “You were serious. What enemies?” “Enemies I have made in the course of my work,” the other returned. “Well, what work is it?” Monty queried. It was odd, he thought, that Denby would not let him into so harmless a secret as the nature of his work. He felt an unusual spirit of persistence rising within him. “What work?” he repeated. Denby shrugged his shoulders. “You might call it a little irregular,” he said in a lowered voice. “You represent high finance. Your father is one of the big men in American affairs. You probably have his set views on things. I don’t want to shock you, Monty.” “Shock be damned!” cried Monty in an aggrieved voice. “I’m tired of having to accommodate myself to other people’s views.” Denby looked at him with mock wonder. “Monty in revolt at the established order of things is a most remarkable phenomenon. Have you a pirate in your family tree that you sigh for sudden change and a life on the ocean wave?” Monty laughed. “I don’t want to do anything like that but I’m tired of a life that is always the same. You’ve enemies. I don’t believe I’ve one. I’d like to have an enemy, Steve. I’d like to feel I was in danger; it would be a change after being wrapped in wool all my life. You’ve probably seen the world in a way I never shall. I’ve been on a personally conducted tour, which isn’t the same thing.”