“All right, Abbott!  I’m more than grateful and more than satisfied at having you with me.  See if I can have a conference with first the Secretary of State and then the President.  Now let me finish this report before the Attorney General arrives.”

Enoch’s conference with Secretary Fowler was inconclusive.  The Secretary of State chose to take a humorous attitude toward what he termed the Secretary of the Interior’s midnight conference with bandits.  Enoch laughed with him and then departed for his audience with the chief executive.

The President listened soberly.  When the report was finished, he scowled.

“What attitude does Mr. Fowler take in this?”

“He thinks I’m making mountains out of mole hills.  It seems to me, Mr. President, that I must be extremely careful not to encroach on the domain of the Secretary of State.  My idea is very deliberately to push the work of the Geological Survey and to follow very carefully any activities against its work.”

“All very well, of course,” agreed the President, “but what of the big game back of it all—­what’s the means of fighting that?”

“Publicity,” replied Enoch briefly.

“Exactly!” exclaimed the President, “There are other newspapers.  Brown does not own them all.  As fast as evidence is produced, let the story be told.  By Jove, if this war talk grows much more menacing, Huntingdon, I think I’ll ask you to go across the country and make a few speeches,—­on the Geological Survey!”

“I’m willing!” replied Enoch, with a little sigh.

The President looked at him keenly.  “Huntingdon, we’re working you too hard!  You look tired.  I try not to overload you, but—­”

“But you are so overloaded yourself that you have to shift some of the load,” said Enoch, with a smile.  “I’m not seriously tired, Mr. President.”

“I hope not, old man.  By the way, what did you think of Miss Allen yesterday?”

“I thought her a very interesting young woman,” replied Enoch.

“My heavens, man!” exclaimed the chief executive.  “What do you want!  Why, Diana Allen is as rare as—­as a great poem.  Look here, Huntingdon, you make a mistake to cut all women out of your life.  It’s not normal.”

“Perhaps not,” agreed Enoch briefly.  “I would be very glad,” he added, as if fearing that he had been too abrupt, “I would be very glad to see more of Miss Allen.”

“You ought to make a great effort to do,” said the President.  “Keep me informed on this Mexican matter, please, and take care of yourself, my boy.  Good-by, Mr. Secretary.  Think seriously of a speaking tour, won’t you?”

“I will,” replied Enoch obediently, as he left the room.

The remainder of the day was crowded to the utmost.  It was not until midnight that Enoch achieved a free moment.  This was when in the privacy of his own room Jonas had bidden him a final good night.  Enoch did not open his journal.  Instead he scrawled a letter.