ongratulated you."

"You mean?"

She laughed with velvet maliciousness. "Oh, well, I'm dragged into the
orbit of your greatness, am I not? As the wife of the president of the
Greater Consolidated Copper Company--the immense combine that takes in
practically all the larger copper properties in the country--I should
come in for a share of reflected glory, you know."

Ridgway bit his lip and took a deep breath, but before he had found
words she was off again. She had no intention of letting him descent
from the rack yet.

"How did you do it? By what magic did you bring it about? Of course,
I've read the newspapers' accounts, seen your features and your history
butchered in a dozen Sunday horrors, and thanked Heaven no enterprising
reporter guessed enough to use me as copy. Every paper I have picked up
for weeks has been full of you and the story of how you took Wall
Street by the throat. But I suspect they were all guesses, merely
superficial rumors except as to the main facts. What I want to know is
the inside story--the lever by means of which you pried open the door
leading to the inner circle of financial magnates. You have often told
me how tightly barred that door is. What was the open-sesame you used
as a countersign to make the keeper of the gate unbolt?"

He thought he saw his chance. "The countersign was 'Aline Harley,'" he
said, and looked her straight in the face. He wished he could find some
way of telling her without making him feel so like a cad.

She clapped her hands. "I thought so. She backed you with that
uncounted fortune her husband left her. Is that it?"

"That is it exactly. She gave me a free hand, and the immense fortune
she inherited from Harley put me in a position to force recognition
from the leaders. After that it was only a question of time till I had
convinced them my plan was good." He threw back his shoulders and tried
to take the fence again. "Would you like to know why Mrs. Harley put
her fortune at my command?"

"I suppose because she is interested in us and our little affair.
Doesn't all the world love a lover?" she asked, with a disarming candor.

"She had a better reason," he said, meeting her eyes gravely.

"You must tell me it--but not just yet. I have something to tell you
first." She held out her little clenched hand. "Here is something that
belongs to you. Can you open it?"

He straightened her fingers one by one, and took from her palm the
engagement-ring he had gi