nner sanctum and
copy letters for him, though he was summarily turned out to see the
sights of the great city when a visitor was announced. He explored the
depths of the coal mines and finally spent a long morning at the
foundry whose nightly glare still haunted his dreams. It was the
latter sight that Peter Masters evidently expected would interest him
most, for here were employed the most marvellous and most complicated
modern machinery, colossal innovations and ingenious labour-saving
inventions in vast orderly buildings; the complex whole obedient to an
organisation that left no item of power incomplete or wasted. But
Christopher gave but half his mind to all he was shown, the other half
was on those still stranger machines, the grimy, brutal-looking
workmen toiling in the hot heart of the place, the white-faced
stooping forms on the outskirts. They eyed him aslant as they worked,
for visitors were rare occurrences. He asked questions concerning them
and received vague answers, and a new machine was offered for
inspection.

Fulner, the young engineer who had been told off to show him round,
understood what was expected of him and did his duty. Masters himself,
though he accompanied them, apparently put himself also in Fulner's
hands; he took no particular interest in the work, but his eye
followed every movement of Christopher's and his ear strained to his
questions. Christopher noticed that none but heads of departments paid
any attention to the owner's presence, and he would have thought him
unknown but for a word or two he caught as he lingered for a last look
at a particularly fascinating electric lathe.

"Thinks he's master," grinned one man, with a shrug, towards the
retreating form.

"Thinks we're part of his blasted machinery," growled his fellow
worker.

Christopher passed on and forgot the lathe.

"Where do these people live?" he asked in the comparative quiet of a
store yard.

"In the--the villages round, and as near as they can," said the
engineer quietly and looked back. Mr. Masters had gone off to the
store-keeper's office and was out of hearing. Fulner looked at
Christopher again and apparently came to a decision.

"It is difficult, sometimes, this housing question," he said swiftly,
"are you really interested?"

"Yes, I want to know what contrast they get to this. It's
overpowering, this place."

"If there was time----" began the other, and stopped, seeing Mr.
Masters was approaching. H