my Kick."

So she began packing the huge Saratogas and reading the Folders on
Egypt and the Riviera. He sat in his Den pulling at a long black
Excepcionale. Through the bluish clouds of Smoke came that old
familiar Voice.

"Let the Missus and the Heiress do the European Thing," said Ambition.
"You stick around. Wait for Black Friday. Then get busy at the Bargain
Counter. By and by the new Crop will begin to move, and Money will
creep out of the Yarn Stockings and a few Wise Gazabes will cop all
the Plush. In every Palm Room there are more Millionaires than Palms.
But the Big Round Table over by the Fountain is always reserved by
Oscar for the Lad who can show Ten Millions."

The Ocean Greyhound moved out past Sandy Hook with the Family and all
the Maids on board, but Papa remained behind to sharpen his Tools and
get ready for another Killing.

Every time he was given a Crimp in the Rue de la Paix he caught even
by leading a new Angora up the Chute and into the Shambles.

When the fully matured Goddess and the radiant Heroine of the latest
International Alliance came home with the French Language and two tons
of Glad Raiment, they found themselves reuning with the Magnate at the
big Table over by the Fountain.

Our Hero was now sleeping in a Bed almost twelve feet wide, with a
silk Tent over it. One Morning he found the Companion of many Years
sitting on the edge of the Mattress.

"Again?" asked the Multi-Millionaire. "What next?"

"The Exercises up to this Time have been Preliminary," said Ambition.
"What is the good of a Bank Roll if you cannot garnish it with the
delectable Parsley of Social Eminence? Get a Wiggle on you. Send for
the Boys with the Frock Coats and the Soft Hats and let them dig in to
their Elbows. Tell the Press Agent to organize a typewriting Phalanx.
Assume a few Mortgages on fluttering Newspapers. Lay a Corner-Stone
ever and anon. Be Interviewed."

"What are you leading up to?" asked the Financial Giant, a sickly Fear
creeping into the Region formerly occupied by his Heart.

"The Logical Finish," replied Ambition, with a reassuring Pat on the
Shoulder. "You must go to the Senate. The White Palace, suitable for
entertaining purposes, now awaits you in Washington. The Bulb Lights
glow dimly above the Porte Cochere. A red Carpet invites you to climb
the Marble Stairway and spread yourself all over the Throne. On a
Receiving Night, when the perfumed Aliens in their Masquerade Suits
rally a