Brown suddenly leaned forward in his chair.  “Mr. Huntingdon, I’ll give you my check for $100,000, if you will give me that document and swear to keep your mouth shut.”

“Your bribe is not large enough,” Enoch answered tersely.

“Five hundred thousand!  I’ll agree to make a public retraction of everything I said about you and to work for you with all the power of my newspapers.”

“Not enough!” repeated Enoch, watching Brown’s white face, keenly.

“What do you want?” demanded the newspaper publisher.

“First,” Enoch threw his cigarette away, “I want Secretary Fowler to break with you, absolutely and completely.”

“Curly can’t implicate me, in that Mexican affair!” cried Fowler.  “Why, my whole attitude was one of disapproval and disgust.  I told Brown over and over, that he was a fool and after the shooting I broke with him, absolutely, for years.  I am—­”

Enoch interrupted.  “Brown, was Fowler in on the trouble?”

“No!” replied Brown, sullenly.

“I’m very glad to hear it,” Enoch exclaimed.  “Mr. Fowler, as far as I am concerned all that I learned from Field regarding you is a closed book and forgotten if you will break with Brown.”

“I’d break with him, gladly, if he’d cease to blackmail me about the Field matter,” said Fowler.  “Good God!  How many of us are there who’ve not committed sins that we never forgive ourselves?”

“None of us!” said Enoch.  “Mr. Fowler, why did you break with me?”

“Didn’t you do your best to undermine me with the President?  Didn’t you go to Ambassador Johns-Eaton and tell him—­” Here, catching a curious flickering of young Ames’ eyelids, Fowler interrupted himself to demand, “Or was that more of your dirty work, Ames?”

“Answer, Ames!” Enoch’s voice was not to be ignored.

“Brown paid me for it,” muttered Ames.

Fowler groaned and looked at Enoch, who was lighting a fresh cigarette.

“Will you agree, Brown, to an absolute break with Fowler and no come backs?” asked Enoch.

“Yes,” said Brown eagerly.  “What else?”

“You are to go out of the newspaper business.”

There was another silence.  Then Brown said, “I’ll not do it!”

“Very well,” returned Enoch, “then the Mexican affair will be published as Curly has written it with all the attendant circumstances.”

Again there was silence, with all the eyes in the room focused on the pale, gentle face, opposite Enoch.  The noise of street traffic beat against the windows.  Telephones sounded remotely in the outer office.  For ten minutes this was all.  Then Brown in a husky voice said,

“Very well!  Give me the document!”

“Not at all,” returned Enoch, coolly.  “This document goes into my safety deposit box.  In case of my death, it will be left to responsible parties.  When you die, it will be destroyed.  I am not a rich man, Mr. Brown, but I shall devote a part of my income to having you watched; watched lest indirectly and by the underhand methods you know so well you again attempt to influence public opinion.  After to-morrow, you are through.”