would be a bolt out of
the blue before the money could be paid over."

A heavily built man of elderly appearance entered the dining-hall. He
was accompanied by a friend who might be a banker or broker. The pair
picked out a table on the opposite side of the room and immediately
plunged into earnest conversation, their heads close together and
speaking in guarded undertones.

"The gentleman with the gray hair," said young Mr. Harding, eagerly,
"that is Senator Morrison, chairman of the committee on foreign
relations. He must be just in from Washington. Congress, you know, is
in extra session."

"Ah, yes; an able man," said Indiman, politely.

"He would know--he would know," muttered Harding, disjointedly. His
burning gaze fixed itself upon the two men at the distant table, as
though by sheer will-power he would surprise the secret of their
whispering lips. "He must--he does know."

"What?" asked Indiman.

"Man, man, it's a matter of millions! Panama Trading Company common
stock is quoted at 70, and everything depends upon the passage by the
Senate of the canal treaty. The committee must have come to a decision,
and Morrison knows. I tell you he knows--he knows. One word--it would
be enough--Wall Street--Panama common--"

Indiman did not answer; he seemed preoccupied, indifferent even, his
chair pushed back from the table and his eyes half closed. Let me
explain that the small side-tables in the Utinam Club dining-room are
not set flush against the wall, as is usually the case, but at some
little distance from it. Consequently, when there is a party of three
at a table, one man sits on the inside with his back to the wall, a
sensible arrangement in that it allows the waiter free access by the
unoccupied outer side of the table. It so happened that Indiman had
this inside seat.

Harding's lips moved mechanically. "The treaty, the treaty!" he
repeated again and again. "The committee reports to-morrow; the Senate
is certain to act upon its recommendation. If I only knew!"

The conference at the other table was a brief one; its continuance had
been measured by the consumption, on the part of the Senator, of a
couple of biscuits and a glass of spirits-and-water. The two men rose
and left the dining-room.

"Of course you are going back to-night, Senator," said the younger man
as they passed our table.

"At midnight. A hard trip."

"But a profitable one; don't forget that." They laughed and walked on.

For a li