``Engineers? Of course,'' said Mr. Langham, vaguely, with the
ten of spades held doubtfully in air. ``Sometimes we have to
depend upon them altogether. We decide from what the engineering
experts tell us whether we will invest in a thing or not.''

``I don't think I mean the big men of the profession,'' said his
daughter, doubtfully. ``I mean those who do the rough work. The
men who dig the mines and lay out the railroads. Do you know any
of them?''

``Some of them,'' said Mr. Langham, leaning back and shuffling
the cards for a new game. ``Why?''

``Did you ever hear of a Mr. Robert Clay?''

Mr. Langham smiled as he placed the cards one above the other in
even rows. ``Very often,'' he said. ``He sails to-morrow to
open up the largest iron deposits in South America. He goes for
the Valencia Mining Company. Valencia is the capital of Olancho,
one of those little republics down there.''

``Do you--are you interested in that company?'' asked Miss
Langham, seating herself before the fire and holding out her
hands toward it. ``Does Mr. Clay know that you are?''

``Yes--I am interested in it,'' Mr. Langham replied, studying the
cards before him, ``but I don't think Clay knows it--nobody knows
it yet, except the president and the other officers.'' He lifted
a card and put it down again in some indecision. ``It's
generally supposed to be operated by a company, but all the stock