n luxury, when, as a matter of
fact, he's a man with a torpid liver and a weak stomach, who is put to
bed at ten o'clock with a hot-water bag and a flannel night-cap!"

The two had got up and were strolling toward the smoking-room; when
suddenly at one side a door opened, and a group of men came out. At the
head of them was an extraordinary figure, a big powerful body with a
grim face. "Hello!" said the Major. "All the big bugs are here
to-night. There must be a governors' meeting."

"Who is that?" asked his companion; and he answered, "That? Why, that's
Dan Waterman."

Dan Waterman! Montague stared harder than ever, and now he identified
the face with the pictures he had seen. Waterman, the Colossus of
finance, the Croesus of copper and gold! How many trusts had Waterman
organized! And how many puns had been made upon that name of his!

"Who are the other men?" Montague asked.

"Oh, they're just little millionaires," was the reply.

The "little millionaires" were following as a kind of body-guard; one
of them, who was short and pudgy, was half running, to keep up with
Waterman's heavy stride. When they came to the coat-room, they crowded
the attendants away, and one helped the great man on with his coat, and
another held his hat, and another his stick, and two others tried to
talk to him. And Waterman stolidly buttoned his coat, and then seized
his hat and stick, and without a word to anyone, bolted through the
door.

It was one of the funniest sights that Montague had ever seen in his
life, and he laughed all the way into the smoking-room. And, when Major
Venable had settled himself in a big chair and bitten off the end of a
cigar and lighted it, what floodgates of reminiscence were opened!

For Dan Waterman was one of the Major's own generation, and he knew all
his life and his habits. Just as Montague had seen him there, so he had
been always; swift, imperious, terrible, trampling over all opposition;
the most powerful men in the city quailed before the glare of his eyes.
In the old days Wall Street had reeled in the shock of the conflicts
between him and his most powerful rival.

And the Major went on to tell about Waterman's rival, and his life. He
had been the city's traction-king, old Wyman had been made by him. He
was the prince among political financiers; he had ruled the Democratic
party in state and nation. He would give a quarter of a million at a
time to the boss of Tammany Hall, and spend a mill