“I assure you I have not the least interest in your projects as to the Danburg water system, Mr. Davis, Mr. Erskine, Mr. Owen.”  He dwelt on the names.  “The Consolidated has plenty of its own business to attend to.”

“But I say you are trying to run our business, too—­no, ruin it!”

“Do you realize, Mr. Davis, that you are accusing me of criminal conspiracy—­making a statement that might go hard with you in a court of law?  You have accused me of trying to discredit you with banking-houses.  Can you produce any proof except your foolish and unjust suspicions?  You have been made angry by a refusal to handle your bonds.  I don’t sell bonds.  I build and operate water systems.”

“The same old game,” sneered Davis.  “Your water syndicate, the railroads of this state, the banks, the politics—­they’re all snarled up together like snakes in winter quarters.  I say, if you pass the word our bonds will be taken.  If you don’t do it, I’m going to trot out of this office and expose your highway-robber system.”

“In one breath you threaten me because you say I’m interfering in your affairs.  In the next breath you threaten me because I refuse to interfere.  You are making dangerous talk, Davis.  I may call the courts to pass on that threat.  There is only one proposition I can make to you—­and that’s strictly in the line of my business.  If you are tied up financially—­are at the end of your resources and must have help—­I’ll give you my aid in getting the Consolidated to take over the Danburg plant at a fair valuation.”

“Is that the best word you’ve got for us?”

“I have made you an honorable business proposition.”

“That your final talk?”

“Absolutely.”

Davis found words inadequate for his boiling emotions just then.  He advanced on Dodd, who shrank back into his chair.  Davis whipped the long roll of plans out from under his arm, held the roll by one end, and swung it like a bat-stick.  But he did not strike at Dodd, as the magnate seemed to apprehend.

He swung over the colonels’ head and swept the top of the desk clean of everything; vases, bouquets, objets d’art, all went rolling and smashing to the floor.

Colonel Dodd ducked low and held his square head in his hands as if he feared that the next assault would be on that.  But Davis led his associates out of the room through the door which Briggs had flung open, summoned by the crash in his master’s holy of holies.

For the first time, perhaps, in the history of that private office the door leading into the anteroom was left open and unguarded.  Briggs ran into the room, his coat-tails streaming, his inquisitive beak stretched forward.  On his heels followed the tall young man who had been waiting in the anteroom.  It was Walker Farr, who closed the door behind him, shutting out the curious anteroom clients who flocked and peered.

When the colonel lifted his head he found himself looking squarely into the eyes of this tall young man whom he in no way remembered.