“To-morrow!  Impossible!” gasped Brown.

“Nothing is impossible except decency to a man of your capacity,” said Enoch.  “To-morrow you publish a complete denial of your lies about me and this Department and then you are no longer a newspaper publisher.  That is all I have to say to you, Mr. Brown.”  He pressed a button, “Jonas, please show Mr. Brown out.”

Jonas’ black eyes snapped.  “How come you think I’d soil my shadow letting that viper trail it, boss?  I never disobeyed you before, Mr. Secretary, but that trash can show hisself out!” and Jonas withdrew to his own office, while Brown, shrugging his shoulders, opened and closed the door for himself.

Ames would have followed him, but Enoch said, “One moment, Ames!  What assurance are you going to give me that you will keep your mouth shut as to what you’ve heard this afternoon?”

“I give you my word,” began Ames, eagerly.

Enoch raised his hand.  “Don’t be silly, Ames.  Do you know that I can make serious legal trouble for you for your part in libelling me and the Department?”

“But Brown said his lawyers—­”

“Brown’s lawyers?  Do you think Brown’s lawyers will fight for you now?”

“No, Mr. Secretary,” muttered the reporter.

“Very well!  Keep your mouth shut and you’ll have no trouble from this, but let me trace one syllable to you and I shall have no bowels of compassion.  One word more, Ames.  You are clever or Brown would not have used you as he did.  Get a job on a clean paper.  There is no finer profession in the world than that of being a good newspaper man.  Newspaper men wield a more potent influence in our American life than any other single factor.  Use your talent nobly, not ignobly, Ames.  And above all things never tell a vile tale about any man’s mother.  Don’t do it, Ames!” and here Enoch’s voice for the first time broke.

Ames, his hands trembling, picked up his hat.  His face had turned an agonized red.  Biting his lips, he made his way blindly from the room.

“And now,” said Enoch, “if you’ll leave Mr. Fowler and me alone for a few minutes, Abbott, I’ll appreciate it.”  As the door closed after Charley he said, “Sit down, Fowler.  I’m sorry to have put you through such an ordeal, but I knew no other way.”

“I deserve it, I guess.”  Fowler sat down wearily.  “I was an unlicked whelp in my youth, Huntingdon, but though I got into rotten company, I never did anything actually crooked.”

“I believe you,” Enoch nodded.  “Let the guiltless throw the first stone.  We both have paid in our heart’s blood, I guess, for all that we wrought in boyhood.”

“A thousand-fold,” agreed Fowler.  “Huntingdon, let me try to express my regret for—­”

“Don’t!” interrupted Enoch.  “If you are half as eager as I am to forget it all you’ll never mention it even to yourself.  But I do want to talk candidly to you about our political aspirations.  Mr. Fowler, I don’t want to go to the White House!  I have a number of reasons that I don’t think would interest you particularly.  But I want to go back to the Senate when I finish here.  Fowler, if you were not so jealous and so personal in your ambitions I would be glad to see you get the party nomination.”