There was a tinkling chink as I ran the yellow pieces
through my fingers, and with the golden music rippling round me I
caught a deeper insight into the mystery of things.
OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA.
February 1900.
GOLIAH
In 1924--to be precise, on the morning of January 3--the city of San
Francisco awoke to read in one of its daily papers a curious letter,
which had been received by Walter Bassett and which had evidently
been written by some crank. Walter Bassett was the greatest captain
of industry west of the Rockies, and was one of the small group that
controlled the nation in everything but name. As such, he was the
recipient of lucubrations from countless cranks; but this particular
lucubration was so different from the average ruck of similar letters
that, instead of putting it into the waste-basket, he had turned it
over to a reporter. It was signed "Goliah," and the superscription
gave his address as "Palgrave Island." The letter was as follows:
"MR. WALTER BASSETT,
"DEAR SIR:
"I am inviting you, with nine of your fellow-captains of industry, to
visit me here on my island for the purpose of considering plans for
the reconstruction of society upon a more rational basis.
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