"You fool, don't you know Macgowan yet?" roared the banker angrily. "Listen here! Windsor mentioned another thing. He's been offered a ten-thousand-dollar job here in town, with the firm of Milligan, Milligan, Hoyt & Brainard; a corporation law firm, fair to middling but nothing extra. The opening takes effect in about four months; it came to him through Western sources entirely. Personally, I smell Macgowan in the whole game. So far as I know, though, that firm has no connection with Mac, so it's a wild guess." "Where can I get in touch with Windsor?" said Armstrong. Todrank laughed. The laugh was hard, sharp. "You'll have your job cut out to get in touch with him! That lad wants facts, not personalities. He figures that the whole crowd of you are a gang of cut-throat financial crooks, and wants to keep away from you." "But it's absurd!" cried Armstrong. "Sure. Our jail system is absurd too, but the fact doesn't empty Sing Sing," came the caustic reply. "You act, and act quick! I know Tom Windsor, and he's the only and original leader of the bloodhound chorus, once he gets after a crook. And he really thinks you're one. Don't mention my name to him." "All right, Todrank, and many thanks. Is Windsor in town?" "He's at the Pennsylvania, or was. No telling now; he's a vigorous young devil." "Good. Thanks again." "Good luck!" Todrank rang off. Armstrong began to pace up and down, wrestling with this information. He found himself lifted out of his lethargy, found the old hot anger running and leaping again, found the apathetic and muffling impotency stripped suddenly away. The very mystery of this new blow roused him to fight. In what way could he be reached for any illicit operation of Food Products? He knew of none; yet Todrank had supplied the hint, and he knew better than to disregard the warning. He turned, and found Jimmy Wren staring at him from the corner. Abruptly, memory wakened within him. "Say, Jimmy--why, what's the matter?" Wren laughed aloud. "Nothing, only you look waked up! Good news?" "No. More bad news. That party for this afternoon is all off, Jimmy; thanks just the same. Do you remember when you came to Evansville, the day before Christmas?" "You bet I do," said Wren, blinking. "You told me about an irregularity in the issue of Food Products stock. What was it?" "Why, the Deming directors could never have marketed that stock issue under the blue sky laws if they'd revealed the actual condition of the company. They falsified it." Armstrong nodded. "Yes, that's what I remember. It was all their doing? It had no connection with us at all?" "Not a shadow," said Wren confidently. "Not even Macgowan could make that stick on us." "So Mansfield said. He should know. I'll call him up--" "He's in Albany." "Judge Holcomb around?" "Yes." "Well, you keep quiet about this." Armstrong rose. "It may all come to nothing, as usual."