in his eyes. "In your study of the Indian's case you have
discovered the fact that the borderer is often the aggressor and
sometimes the thief." He repeated his praise of the book and then said,
"I shall make use of your knowledge of the conditions on the Western
reservations. You and George Bird Grinnell know what is going on out
there and I intend to use you both--unofficially."

To this I agreed, and when he gave me a card to the Secretary of the
Interior and told me to take up with the Commissioner certain reforms
which I had suggested, I put the card in my pocket and set about the
task. It was only a small card, a visiting card, and when, in my
ignorance of official life, I walked in on the Secretary with that tiny
slip of pasteboard in my hand, I had no idea of its explosive power. The
Secretary who was lounging at his desk like a tired and discouraged old
man, did not think me important enough to warrant a rise out of his
chair, until he read the card which I handed to him. After that I owned
the office! That card made me the personal representative of the
President--for the moment.

On the following day Roosevelt allowed me to sit in at some of the
meetings in the Executive Chamber, and it was at one of these that I met
for the first time the most engaging Chief of the Forestry Bureau,
Gifford Pinchot. At night Zulime and I dined with William Dudley Foulke
and at nine o'clock we went to the White House Musicale.

That musicale at the White House is one of the starry nights in Zulime's
life, as well as in my own, for not only did we meet the President and
Mrs. Roosevelt and many of the best known figures in American art,
letters, politics, and statesmanship, we also heard Paderewski play as
we had never heard him play before.

We were seated close to the piano and when that potent, shock-haired
Pole spread his great hands above the keys I fancied something of the
tiger in the lithe grace of his body, and in his face a singular and
sultry solemnity was expressed. Inspired no doubt by the realization
that he was playing before a mighty ruler--a ruler by the divine right
of brain power,--he played with magnetic intensity. Something
mysterious, something grandly moving went out from his fingers. No other
living musician could, at that moment have equaled him.

For a few hours Zulime and I enjoyed the white light which beat upon two
of the great personalities of that day--one the world's greatest piano
player, th