saw but one, the towering magician who had reared this fairy palace.
She saw Ames lead his companion to the door of the little waiting room
at their right, and heard the congressman protest against entering.

"But we can talk undisturbed in here," urged Ames, his hand on the
door.

"Better remain out here on the balcony," replied the congressman
nervously, as he moved toward the railing.

Ames laughed and shrugged his enormous shoulders. He understood the
man's repugnance fully. But he humored him.

"You know, Wales," he said easily, going to the railing and peering
over at the brilliant assemblage below, "if I could get the heathen
Chinee to add an extra half-inch to his shirt length, I'd make a
hundred millions. And then, perhaps, I wouldn't need to struggle with
your Ways and Means Committee as I do. By the way, the cotton schedule
will be reported out unchanged, I presume." He turned and looked
quizzically at his companion as he said this.

Wales trembled slightly when he replied to the question he had been
awaiting. "I think not, Mr. Ames."

The giant's face clouded. "Parsons will vote for it," he said
suggestively. "What will you do?"

The congressman hesitated. "I--the party, Mr. Ames, is committed to
the high tariff principle. We can not let in a flood of foreign
cotton--"

"Then you want the fight between the farmers and spinners to continue,
eh?" interposed Ames cynically. "You don't seem to realize that in the
end both will get more money than they are getting now, and that it
will come from the consumer, who will pay vastly higher for his
finished products, in addition to the tariff. Do you get me?"

"It is a party principle, Mr. Ames," returned the congressman
tenaciously.

"Look here, Wales," said Ames, turning savagely upon his companion.
"The cotton farmers are organizing. They have got to be stopped. Their
cooeperative associations must be smashed. The tariff schedule which
you have before your Committee will do it. And you are going to pass
it."

"Mr. Ames," replied the congressman, "I--I am opposed to the constant
manipulation of cotton by you rich men. I--"

"There," interrupted Ames, "never mind explaining your conscientious
scruples. What I want to know is, do you intend to cast your vote for
the unaltered schedule?"

"N--no, Mr. Ames, I can't--"

"H'm," murmured Ames. Then, with easy nonchalance, turning to an
apparently irrelevant topic as he gazed over the railing, "I heard