“But you won out,” Covington exclaimed, amazed that Gorham seemed not to have comprehended his words.  “Everything is all right.”

“Everything is all wrong,” the older man corrected, his eyes flashing with a fire at variance with his general bearing.  “Of course I won out, but that is the least of my concern.  My life-work bids fair to be a failure, unless you and I together can build this structure over, using material which this time will prove strong enough to withstand the unholy strain of money, money, money.  Of course I won out, because they dare not risk my antagonism; but I have failed—­miserably failed—­in my efforts to instil into those associated with me the basic principles of a successful altruistic business.  Oh, the pity of it!  The greater the returns the greater the greed, and their blindness in killing the goose which lays the golden egg!  But in you, John, at least, I have a tower of strength.”

Covington found himself being rapidly forced into an equivocal position.  No one knew so well as he that the present conditions were the direct result of his skilful and persistent manipulation, yet the result of this first issue had not been what he had foreseen.  In fact, it had turned out better than he had expected, in that Gorham now leaned on him as his sole support.  Yet it was dangerous, Covington realized, to be placed where he could be accused of carrying water on both shoulders, so he hastened to put himself on record, midway between the two factions.

“They had no idea that you laid so much stress on the moral side, in your own mind—­” he began.

“How could they have known me at all and thought otherwise?”

“The whole scheme of the Consolidated Companies is so unusual that perhaps it isn’t to be wondered at.  What you consider to be unwarranted is a recognized business method in other corporations.”

“Why do you tell me this?” Gorham demanded, suddenly.

“Because I feared that you had overlooked it, in the heat of the argument, and some sort of a compromise is of course necessary.”

“Compromise?” repeated Gorham, questioningly.  “I don’t follow you.”

“Why, you’ve carried your point, and proved your strength, but you have divided the Companies into two camps.  Of course something must be done to conciliate.  By Jove! that was an arraignment you gave them!”

“There can be no conciliation, Covington,” was the firm response; “there can be no compromise.  The Consolidated Companies either is what it is, or it is nothing.  The pledges which I have made from the beginning shall be lived up to in spirit and in letter, or the final exercise of the strength which they all are forced to admit shall be again to separate it into its integral parts, and prevent it from undoing that which I have already accomplished through its agency.”

“That is a large contract for any one man to undertake,” Covington remarked.  “No individual has yet been able to disintegrate a successful going corporation when the stockholders and the directors were opposed to it.”