CHAPTER IV
THE EPISODE OF THE SENTIMENTAL ANARCHIST
THE Atlantic liner Hoch Der Kaiser was two days out from New York when my indefatigable assistant, Hank Wilkins, appeared in the smoking-room door and beckoned to me to join him on deck. I shook my head in a negative manner, for I was playing poker with several American trust magnates who had shown themselves to be a jovial company of philanthropists and most congenial companions. After gaining control of most of the food supply and transportation systems of their own country they were en route for Europe to attempt the formation of worldwide monopolies in pickles, beer, coffins, flour and so on.
Presently Wilkins returned to the doorway and beckoned with more emphasis than before.
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