I had shot my bolt....  There followed what was for me an anxious silence, while the three of them continued to stare at me.  Mr. Watling put the tips of his fingers together, and I became aware that he was not offended, that he was thinking rapidly.

“By George, why not, Fowndes?” he demanded.

“Well,” said Fowndes, “there’s an element of risk in such a proceeding I need not dwell upon.”

“Risk!” cried the senior partner vigorously.  “There’s risk in everything.  They’ll howl, of course.  But they howl anyway, and nobody ever listens to them.  They’ll say it’s special legislation, and the Pilot will print sensational editorials for a few days.  But what of it?  All of that has happened before.  I tell you, if we can’t see those books, we’ll lose the suit.  That’s in black and white.  And, as a matter of justice, we’re entitled to know what we want to know.”

“There might be two opinions as to that,” observed Fowndes, with his sardonic smile.

Mr. Watling paid no attention to this remark.  He was already deep in thought.  It was characteristic of his mind to leap forward, seize a suggestion that often appeared chimerical to a man like Fowndes and turn it into an accomplished Fact.  “I believe you’ve hit it, Hugh,” he said.  “We needn’t bother about the powers of the courts in other states.  We’ll put into this bill an appeal to our court for an order on the clerk to compel the witness to come before the court and testify, and we’ll provide for a special commissioner to take depositions in the state where the witness is.  If the officers of a home corporation who are outside of the state refuse to testify, the penalty will be that the ration goes into the hands of a receiver.”

Fowndes whistled.

“That’s going some!” he said.

“Well, we’ve got to go some.  How about it, Scherer?”

Even Mr. Scherer’s brown eyes were snapping.

“We have got to win that suit, Watling.”

We were all excited, even Fowndes, I think, though he remained expressionless.  Ours was the tense excitement of primitive man in chase:  the quarry which had threatened to elude us was again in view, and not unlikely to fall into our hands.  Add to this feeling, on my part, the thrill that it was I who had put them on the scent.  I had all the sensations of an aspiring young brave who for the first time is admitted to the councils of the tribe!

“It ought to be a popular bill, too,” Mr. Schemer was saying, with a smile of ironic appreciation at the thought of demagogues advocating it.  “We should have one of Lawler’s friends introduce it.”

“Oh, we shall have it properly introduced,” replied Mr. Wading.

“It may come back at us,” suggested Fowndes pessimistically.  “The Boyne Iron Works is a home corporation too, if I am not mistaken.”

“The Boyne Iron Works has the firm of Wading, Fowndes and Ripon behind it,” asserted Mr. Scherer, with what struck me as a magnificent faith.