“So was I,” replied she.  “And I said to him afterward, ’I suppose you don’t know that Allan Montague is my Ollie’s brother.’  And he did you the honour to say that he hadn’t supposed any member of Ollie’s family could have as much sense!”

Betty was staying with an aunt near by, and she went back before dinner.  In the automobile which came for her was old Wyman himself, on his way home from the city; and as a snowstorm had begun, he came in and stood by the fire while his car was exchanged for a closed one from Harvey’s stables.  Montague did not meet him, but stood and watched him from the shadows-a mite of a man, with a keen and eager face, full of wrinkles.  It was hard to realize that this little body held one of the great driving minds of the country.  He was an intensely nervous and irritable man, bitter and implacable—­by all odds the most hated and feared man in Wall Street.  He was swift, imperious, savage as a hornet.  “Directors at meetings that I attend vote first and discuss afterward,” was one of his sayings that Montague had heard quoted.  Watching him here by the fireside, rubbing his hands and chatting pleasantly, Montague had a sudden sense of being behind the scenes, of being admitted to a privilege denied to ordinary mortals—­the beholding of royalty in everyday attire!

After dinner that evening Montague had a chat in the smoking-room with his host; and he brought up the subject of the Hasbrook case, and told about his trip to Washington, and his interview with Judge Ellis.

Harvey also had something to communicate.  “I had a talk with Freddie Vandam about it,” said he.

“What did he say?” asked Montague.

“Well,” replied the other, with a laugh, “he’s indignant, needless to say.  You know, Freddie was brought up by his father to regard the Fidelity as his property, in a way.  He always refers to it as ’my company.’  And he’s very high and mighty about it—­it’s a personal affront if anyone attacks it.  But it was evident to me that he doesn’t know who’s behind this case.”

“Did he know about Ellis?” asked Montague.

“Yes,” said the other, “he had found out that much.  It was he who told me that originally.  He says that Ellis has been sponging off the company for years—­he has a big salary that he never earns, and has borrowed something like a quarter of a million dollars on worthless securities.”

Montague gave a gasp.

“Yes,” laughed Harvey.  “But after all, that’s a little matter.  The trouble with Freddie Vandam is that that sort of thing is all he sees; and so he’ll never be able to make out the mystery.  He knows that this clique or that in the company is plotting to get some advantage, or to use him for their purposes—­but he never realizes how the big men are pulling the wires behind the scenes.  Some day they’ll throw him overboard altogether, and then he’ll realize how they’ve played with him.  That’s what this Hasbrook case means, you know—­they simply want to frighten him with a threat of getting the company’s affairs into the courts and the newspapers.”