"You see, then, why I am not concerned over these legal affairs? The suits against us will hardly be pressed, with Armstrong a convict. Our own suits we calmly dismiss." "But are you sure of convicting him?" asked Findlater, a glow of hope in his eyes. Macgowan smiled cynically. "I prepared the evidence myself. Need I say more?" Findlater leaned back and drew a long breath. At this moment, however, Macgowan changed the subject. He regarded Findlater with latent cruelty, a steady appraisal which showed how absolutely he held the other man in his power. "There is a little matter which you and I must settle," he said. His tone made the other man jerk around. "Suppose you affix your signature to this." He held out the typed document which lay before him. Findlater took it, adjusted his glasses and glanced at the paper. He looked more attentively. Slowly the color faded out of his cheeks, and the paper shook in his hand. He looked up, caught his breath. "I--I don't understand!" he began. The challenging gaze of Macgowan seemed to sap the man's vitality. His voice failed. "Can't you read?" asked Macgowan coldly. "Your resignation as president of Consolidated, undated; also, an agreement empowering me to vote your control in the voting trust. It seems very simple." Findlater rallied. His countenance purpled with a rush of anger. "Damn you, Mac, you can't force me out--I'm not to be bullied into walking out of here like Armstrong did! If you think you'll stab me in the back, you can guess again. I know too much about you and how you've run things--" "You'll tell it, will you?" cut in Macgowan, chuckling. Findlater glared at him, trembling with rage and fright. Like a rat backed into a corner, one touch would either lend him a devastating fury to fight at all costs, or would send him scurrying away in blind panic. Macgowan, watching him, applied the touch very deftly. "I don't want to use that resignation now; it may never be used. As to talking, everything in the campaign has been done over your name, as president, so talk all you like, and I'll leave you to settle matters with the other crowd. And I will leave you, unless you sign. Why shouldn't I? What about that proposition you made Armstrong over in Wilmington? All ready to sell me out, weren't you! And you thought I'd never know it." At this, Findlater turned white again. Macgowan laughed thinly. "I'll take no more chances on you, Henry C. Findlater! From now on, you'll be in my pocket, under my hand--or else I'll walk out of here and give a statement to the press that will wake things up! Who issued those ten thousand shares to Williams? You did." "At your orders!" cried Findlater wildly. "It was you who did everything!" "Prove it." Macgowan, abruptly, flamed with arrogance and tumultuous violence. His fist crashed on the desk as he leaned forward and transfixed Findlater with his wolfish, menacing stare.