“We know—­you were mighty fine about it—­but we’ve decided different.  You see, the Consolidated—­”

Mr. Converse came onto his feet and shook his finger under Davis’s nose.  “Don’t you dare to tell me you have sold out to the Consolidated,” he shouted in tones that rang through his offices and brought all his force to the right about and attention.

“That wasn’t it—­exactly.  But they’ll take it off our hands—­will do the right thing, now that we have shown ’em a few things!  Colonel Dodd has seen new light.  And it is too good a price for us to throw down.”

“You have let those monopolists buy you off.  They have paid you a big bribe because they are getting scared.  They were afraid they had played the old game once too often.  I have them where I want them!  No, my men!  You’ve got to fight this thing, I say.”

“You can’t drag us into law unless we’re willing to go,” stated Davis, doggedly.  “We’ve taken their money and the papers have been passed—­and that settles it.  We haven’t done anything different than the others have done in this state.”

“No, and that’s the trouble with this state,” cried Converse, with passion.  “You came in here at first and talked like men—­like honest men who had good reason for righteous anger—­and I took your case.  And now you sneak back here and give up your fight—­bribed after I clubbed them until they were willing to offer you enough money.”

“We have only done what straight business men would do Mr. Converse,” declared Owen.

“We had a chance to go to the high court with a case that would open up the whole rottenness in this state before we got done fighting, and you have sold out!”

“Good day.  We don’t have to listen to such talk,” said Erskine.

“You wait one minute.”  The lawyer pulled open a drawer and found his check-book.  He wrote hastily and tore out the check.  “Here’s that retaining-fee you paid me.  Now get out of my office.”

He drove them ahead of him to the door, shouting insistent commands that they hurry.

When they were gone he gazed about at his astonished associates, his partners, and his clerks.

“I apologize most humbly ladies and gentlemen, for making such a disturbance.  I—­I hardly seem to be myself to-day.”

He went to his desk and sat down and stared up at the portrait of War-Governor Converse for a long time.  At last he thumped his fist on his desk and shook his head.

“No,” he declared, as if the portrait had been asking him a question and pressing him for a reply, “I can’t do it.  I could have gone into the courts and fought them as an attorney.  I could have maintained my self-respect.  But not in politics—­no—­no!  It’s too much of a mess in these days.”

But he pushed aside the papers which related to the affairs of the big corporations for which he was counsel and kept on studying the reports which his clerks had secured for him—­such statements on health and financial affairs as they were able to dig up.