I was really serving the Empire, partly because the knighthood would give me more weight to go on serving the Empire with."
Mr. Magnate glanced at his fellow passengers. We all nodded approval. "Thank you, sir," said John, with solemn, respectful eyes. "And it all depends on money, doesn't it? If I'm going to do anything big, I must get money, somehow. I have a friend who keeps saying, 'Money's power.' He has a wife who's always tired and cross, and five children, ugly dull things. He's out of a job. Had to sell his push-bike the other day. He says it's not fair that he should be where he is and— you where you are. But it's all his own fault really. If he had been as wide awake as you, he'd be as rich as you. Your being rich doesn't make anyone else poor, does it? If all the slum people were as wide awake as you, they'd all have big houses and Rollses and diamonds. They'd all be some use to the Empire, instead of being just a nuisance."
The man opposite me tittered. Mr. Magnate looked at him with the sidelong glance of a shy horse, then pulled himself together and laughed.
"My lad," he said, "you're too young to understand these things. I don't think we shall do much good by talking any more about them."
"I'm sorry," John replied, seemingly crushed. "I thought I did understand." Then after a pause he continued: "Do you mind if we go on just a little bit longer? I want to ask you something else."
"Oh, very well, what is it?"
"What do you think about?"
"What do I think about? Good heavens, boy! All sorts of things. My business, my home, my wife and children, and—about the state of the country."
"The state of the country? What about it?"
"Well," said Mr. Magnate, "that's much too long a story. I think about how England is to recover her foreign trade—so that more money may come into the country, and people may live happier, fuller lives. I think about how we can strengthen the hands of the Government against the foolish people who want to stir up trouble, and those who talk wildly against the Empire. I think —"
Here John interrupted. "What makes life full and happy?"
"You are a box of questions! I should say that for happiness people need plenty of work to keep them out of mischief, and some amusement to keep them fresh."
"And, of course," John interposed, "enough money to buy their amusements with."
"Yes," said Mr. Magnate. "But not too much. Most of them would only waste it or damage themselves with it. And if they had a lot, they wouldn't work to get more."
"But you have a lot, and you work."
"Yes, but I don't work for money exactly. I work because my business is a fascinating game, and because it is necessary to the country. I regard myself as a sort of public servant."
"But," said John, "aren't they public servants too? Isn't their work necessary too?"
"Yes, boy. But they don't as a rule look at it that way. They won't work unless they're driven."
"Oh, I see!" John said. "They're a different sort from you. It must be wonderful to be you. I wonder whether I shall turn out like you or like them."
"Oh, I'm not really different," said Mr. Magnate generously. "Or if I am, it's just circumstances that have made me so. As for you, young man, I expect you'll go a long way."
"I want to, terribly," said John. "But I don't know which way yet. Evidently whatever I do I must have money. But tell me, why do you bother about the country, and about other people?"
"I suppose," said Mr. Magnate, laughing, "I bother about other people because when I see them unhappy I feel unhappy myself. And also," he added more solemnly, "because the Bible tells us to love our neighbours. And I suppose I bother about the country partly because I must have something big to be interested in, something bigger than myself."
"But you are big, yourself," said John, with hero-worship in his eyes, and not a twinkle.
Mr. Magnate said hastily, "No, no, only a humble instrument in the service of a very big thing."
"What thing do you