ch had begun to possess all classes was
yet so fresh and startling he could form no adequate conception of his
own position.

It was not until he entered his own door, and paused at the sound of
Harriet's voice, that he began to realize the enormity of the tragedy
that had befallen him.

CHAPTER VII

AT THE KING'S COMMAND

Bivens's plan would have gone through without a hitch but for one
thing. He had overlooked the fact that the Kingdom of Mammon in America
has a king and that the present ruler is very much alive. This king has
never been officially crowned and his laws are unwritten, but his rule
is none the less real, and he is by far the most potent monarch Wall
Street has ever known. A man of few words, of iron will, of fiery
temper, of keen intellect, proud, ambitious, resourceful, bold,
successful, a giant in physique, and a giant in personality. He moves
among men with the conscious tread of royalty, thinks big thoughts and
does big deeds as quietly and effectively as small men do small ones,
and then moves on to greater tasks.

It happens that his majesty is an old time Wall Street banker with
inherited traditions about banks and the way their funds should be
handled. He had long held a pet aversion. The Van Dam Trust Company had
become an offense to his nostrils.

His own bank, hitherto the most powerful in America, is a private
concern which bears the royal name. It had long been the acknowledged
seat of the Empire of Mammon and within its unpretentious walls the
king has held his court for years, extending his sceptre of gold in
gracious favour to whom he likes, refusing admission to his presence
for those who might offend his fancy.

The Van Dam Trust Company had built a huge palace far up town and its
president had attempted to set up a court of his own. He had gathered
about him a following, among them an ex-president of the United States.
Gold had poured into the treasury of the great marble palace in a
constant stream until its deposits had reached the unprecedented sum of
$90,000,000, a sum greater than the royal bank itself could boast.

When the king heard the first rumour of the fact that the Van Dam Trust
was backing the schemes of the Allied Bankers in their sensational raid
on the market his big nostrils suddenly dilated.

At last he had them just where he wanted them. He signed the death
warrant of the bank and handed it to his executioner without a word of
comment. And then