"No, I don't remember to have met you before."

"It's not likely that you have, not at all likely. My name is Craft,
Simon Craft. I live in Philadelphia when I'm at home."

"Ah! Philadelphia is a fine city. What can I do for you, Mr. Craft?"

"That isn't the question, sir. The question is, what can _I_ do for
_you_?"

The old man looked carefully around the room, rose, went to the door,
which had been left ajar, closed it noiselessly, and resumed his seat.

"Well," said Mr. Burnham, calmly, "what can you do for me?"

"Much," responded the old man, resting his elbows on the table in
front of him; "very much if you will give me your time and attention
for a few moments."

"My time is at your disposal," replied Burnham, smiling, and leaning
back in his chair somewhat wearily, "and I am all attention; proceed."

Thus far the old man had succeeded in arousing in his listener only
a languid curiosity. This coal magnate was accustomed to being
interrupted by "cranks" of all kinds, as are most rich men, and
often enjoyed short interviews with them. This one had opened the
conversation in much the usual manner, and the probability seemed to
be that he would now go on to unfold the usual scheme by which his
listener's thousands could be converted into millions in an incredibly