t the piano and the older listening, being soothed and
softened by the magic touch upon the keys.

This was their custom when momentous affairs were brewing. At last
Hamilton interrupted. "Paul," he questioned slowly, "can't you give me
something that has the crashing of bugles in it; something like a hymn
before action?" Abruptly his voice mounted and he threw back his head.
"By God, little brother, I want the sort of music that goes before the
charge of an irresistible phalanx!"

The musician wheeled on the piano bench and his fingers left the keys.
He rose impulsively and came over to where Hamilton stood with an
unquenchable light blazing in the eyes. The dreamer laid a hand on each
of the achiever's strong shoulders and gazed long and searchingly into
the confident face. Hamilton read a fear in that gaze and affectionately
smiled back his reassurance.

"What is it, little brother?" he asked.

"Hamilton," began the other in an awkward, diffident fashion, "you are
planning something a little vaster than usual. I am frightened.
Sometimes the end of empire is--St. Helena."

The financier laughed.

"It is not written that I can fail, Paul. It's not in my horoscope. You
are right. I am planning something broader than I have done before." He
paused only to add in a vibrant voice: "I told you that the day would
come when above me there would be no man. That day will be tomorrow."

"Is there no chance of defeat?"

"I admit none. To me the influx of gold, and that attendant power which
is its only worth, have become a tidal wave. Nothing can check it."

"And the end of it all?" questioned the other.

"While there is a game to play, Paul, no man has won enough. It's the
splendid sense of growing power. It's the thirst that grows with the
wine you drink. It's fighting and conquering. It is the magnificent
dream of world-mastery. The money itself!" He spread his hands
contemptuously. "That is a beggar's reward--it's the symbol of Might
that counts."

Their mother entered the room as he spoke and paused at the threshold.
Her two sons went forward to meet her, and for a moment, she stood
looking into Hamilton's eyes. Under her gaze their lust of conquest
softened into tenderness and she brushed back the hair from his forehead
as she shook her head and her eyes became misty.

"My egotistical boy," she said in a low voice. "My dear, egotistical
boy!"

Yamuro appeared in the door, bearing a telegram, and swiftly Hami