When Stuart reached Bivens\'s new offices in Wall Street he was amazed at their size and magnificence. The first impression was one of dazzling splendour. The huge reception hall was trimmed from floor to dome in onyx and gold. The draperies were a deep scarlet, with massive furniture and oriental rugs to match. A fountain with concealed electric lights adorned the centre.
Stuart nodded to a group of reporters waiting for the chance of a word with the great man.
A reporter ventured to give him some information.
"I\'m afraid you\'re too late, not a chance to see him; look at \'em waiting."
He waved around the room at the crowd lounging about or gazing at the paintings.
"Looks like a full house, doesn\'t it?" Stuart answered casually.
"They\'ve been here for hours. There\'s a senator of the United States, three members of the House of Representatives, the Ambassador of a European court, the Governor of a Chinese province, a Japanese Prince and a dozen big politicians from as many states, to say nothing of the small fry."
"Well, I have an appointment with Mr. Bivens at this hour."
"Really!" the reporter gasped. "Then for heaven\'s sake give me a chance at you five minutes before the other fellows. Remember now, I saw you first!"
He was still pleading when Stuart smilingly drew away and followed one of Bivens\'s secretaries.
He passed rapidly through a labyrinth of outer offices, each entrance guarded by a detective who eyed him with keen scrutiny as he passed.
Bivens came forward to greet him with outstretched hands.
"I needn\'t say I\'m glad to see you, Jim. How do you like my new quarters?"
"Absolutely stunning. I had no idea you cultivated such ceremonial splendours in your business."
"Yes, I like it," the financier admitted thoughtfully. "I don\'t mind confessing to you on the sly that it was Nan\'s idea, at first, but I took to it like a duck to water. And the more I see of it the better I like it."
Bivens stood warming himself before a cheerful blaze of logs while he spoke and Stuart had quietly taken a seat and watched him with growing interest.
In spite of his contempt for the mere possession of money, in spite of his traditional contempt for Bivens\'s antecedents, character and business methods he found himself unconsciously paying homage to the power the little dark swarthy figure to-day incarnated.
He was struck too with the fact that remarkable changes had taken place in his physical appearance during the past ten years of his reign as a financial potentate. Into his features had grown an undoubted dignity. His mouth had grown harder, colder, and more cruel and more significant of power. His eyes had sunk back deeper into his high forehead and sparkled with fiercer light. He had become more difficult of approach and carried himself with quiet conscious pride.
Stuart was scarcely prepared for the hearty, old-fashioned cordial way in which he went about the business for which he had asked him to come.
"I\'m glad you like it, Jim," he added after a pause.
"It\'s magnificent."
"Glad," he repeated, "because you\'re going to come in here with me."
The lawyer lifted his brows and suppressed a smile.
"Oh, you needn\'t smile," Bivens went on good-naturedly. "It\'s as fixed as fate. You are the only man in New York who can do the work I\'ve laid out and you\'ve got to come. The swine who made up your convention the other day knew what they were about when they turned you down. You were too big a man for the job they gave you."
He paused and drew closer.
"Now, Jim, this is your day, those fellows out there in the reception hall can wait. You and I must have this thing out—man to man, heart to heart. You can talk plainly and I\'ll answer squarely."
The little man stopped again and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully.
"I\'ve got a proposition to make to you, so big you\'ve got to hear it, so big you can\'t get away from it, because you\'re not a fool. You are a man of genius. You have eloquence and magnetism, intellect and will. Among all the men I have met in this town I don\'t know one who is your equal. There is no height to which you can not climb when once your feet are on the ladder. And I\'m going to put them there."
The assurance in Bivens\'s voice and the contagious enthusiasm with which he spoke impressed Stuart.
Bivens was quick to recognize it and strike at once.
"Before I present my plans I want to show you that I can make good my word. I have caused these reporters to be sent here to-day for the purpose of giving the widest publicity to the facts about my fortune. Another run has been planned to-morrow on one of my banks. I have placed my money and securities in the next room so arranged that you can verify my statements, and at the proper moment I shall ask these reporters into the place and let them see with their own eyes. There can be no more rumours in Wall Street about my financial status. Come in here."
Bivens led the way into the room beyond, which was the meeting place of the directors of his many corporations.
Stuart had scarcely passed the door when he stopped, struck dumb with amazement. In the centre of the great office was a sight that held him spellbound. An immense vermilion wood table six feet wide and fifty feet in length filled the centre. On it the wizard had placed his fortune of ninety millions of dollars. Twenty millions were in gold its heavy weight sustained by extra stanchions. The coin, apparently all new from the National mint, was carefully arranged around the edges of the table in a solid bulwark two feet high.
Behind this gleaming yellow pile of gold he had placed his stocks and bonds—each pile showing on its top layer the rich green, gold or purple colours of its issue, each pile marked with a tag which showed its total amount.
The effect was stunning. The whole scheme of decorations of the immense room lent itself to the effects the financier had sought to produce. The walls were covered with rich brown leather fastened with leather-covered nails and every piece of woodwork in the floor, wainscoting, beams and panels as well as the furniture, was of solid dark red vermilion wood from the heart of a South American forest.
From the panelling on the inside wall huge doors of a safe stood open, showing the entrance to a steel vault from which a noiseless electric elevator led to the storage vaults five stories below the surface of the ground. The dark panelling, the massive furniture, and the rich leather-covered walls with their heavy ceilings, all accented the weird effects of the millions of gleaming coin and gorgeously tinted stocks and bonds. The huge table seemed to fill and crowd the entire room and the wall of gold to be pushing itself against the ceiling.
Bivens approached the table softly and reverently, as a priest approaches the High Altar, and touched the gold with the tips of his slender little fingers.
"In romances, Jim, remorse always crushes and kills the rich man——"
Bivens paused and smiled.
"But in life, never! He laughs and grows fat. I haven\'t reached the fat period yet because I\'ve just begun——"
"You\'ve just begun?" Stuart interrupted, laughingly.
"Yes, you\'ll understand what I mean before I\'ve finished the day\'s work."
"But why?" the young lawyer asked passionately. "Such a purpose seems to me in view of this stunning revelation the sheerest insanity. Life, the one priceless thing we possess, is too short. And what lies beyond the six feet of earth we don\'t know."
"That\'s because you\'re an unbeliever, Jim."
There could be no mistaking the seriousness with which Bivens spoke. Yet Stuart laughed in spite of his effort to control the impulse.
"On the other hand, Cal," he answered, with mischievous banter, "if your little heaven and your little hell in which you seem to take so much comfort are true, so much the worse. I can see you shovelling coal through all eternity——"
"But I happen to be going to the other place," Bivens broke in, good-naturedly.
Stuart looked at the pile of gold a moment and then at Bivens and said slowly:
"Well, if you do get there, Cal, there\'s one thing certain, the angels will all have to sleep with their pocket-books under their pillows."
Bivens\'s eyes sparkled and a smile played about the hard lines of his mouth. In spite of its doubtful nature he enjoyed the tribute to his financial genius beneath the banter of his friend\'s joke.
With a gesture of conscious dignity he turned to the table and quietly said:
"Count one of those heaps of coin. Each stack of twenty-dollar pieces contains a hundred—exactly two thousand dollars. Between each pile of a million a scarlet thread is drawn. When you have counted one section, you will find twenty exactly like it. Verify my statement and then make a note of those packages of stocks and bonds, all gilt-edged dividend payers. On that side table there in the corner," he waved in that direction, "I have thrown a heap of rubbish, the common stock of various corporations, not yet paying a dividend. Some of it will be very valuable in time. For example, 100,000 shares of U.S. Steel, Common. When that stock reaches par, and it will yet do it, that package alone will be worth ten millions. I haven\'t counted any of that stuff at all.
"You will find on this table exactly ninety millions. Within an hour you can examine each division of coin, stocks and bonds and bear witness to the truth of my assertions. I\'m going to close that door and leave you here for an hour."
"Alone with all that?"
"Oh, there\'s only one way out," Bivens laughed, "through my little reception room and I\'ll be there. I\'ll meet some of the gentlemen who are waiting. When you are satisfied of the accuracy of my account, just tap on my door and I\'ll join you immediately. Do the inspection carefully. It\'s of grave importance. I shall call on you as a witness bye and bye before that group of newspaper men."
When Bivens disappeared into the adjoining room, Stuart at once began the task of verifying the financier\'s statement of his assets. In half an hour he had completed the task with sufficient care to be reasonably sure there could be no mistake—a million dollars more or less was of no importance. Ten millions in gold would make good every liability of Bivens\'s banks.
When Stuart had satisfied himself of the accuracy of the count, he stood gazing at the queer looking piles of yellow metal and richly tinted paper, stunned by the attempt to realize the enormous power over men which it represented. Even in dead bulk as it lay there the power it represented was something enormous, an annual banking income of at least four millions, a sum beyond the power of any human being to spend intelligently. But when the huge pile should thrill with life at the touch of the deft fingers of the master who could grasp its stunning force in human affairs, who could tell its possibilities?
He folded his arms and stood there lost in thought. Through his imagination the old stories of the worl............