"I can't agree with you. I'll look into that New York job; and I'll say that it was white of you to give me warning about it. But there's no tracing these charges back to Macgowan." "He's behind it, none the less. He knew about those fraudulent statements." Windsor quietly dissented. "Armstrong, I've gone through things carefully, looking for just such a connection; I was warned of the possibility in New York. I was in Evansville yesterday and met Dorothy on the street; she suggested the same idea to me--that Macgowan had framed you. I'm sorry for her, cursed sorry! But the facts are open. You're the boss in this thing, and there's enough contributory evidence to put you behind the bars." "I don't doubt it; Macgowan seems to have done this job up brown!" Armstrong leaned forward earnestly. From the look on Dorns' face, he knew that he was at a critical point. "Now, Windsor, I insisted on seeing you because I knew you were honestly convinced. You believe I'm a crook, don't you?" "Absolutely," said Windsor calmly. "On the evidence of two men whom I threw out of Food Products because they had wrecked that company. Good. Suppose we call on Williams and Slosson. Let me talk to 'em in your presence. If they stick to their lies, I'm through. Let the matter come up in court and be fought out. If not--it's up to you." Windsor removed his cigar and surveyed Armstrong with an indolent air which masked his keen eagerness. "Either you're the nerviest devil I've ever met or--well, I'll take you up! Wait till I get copies of those affidavits. Back in a minute." He sprang to his feet and went into the adjoining office. Armstrong waited. Inwardly, his thoughts had been wrenched aside by Windsor's mention of Evansville, of Dorothy; a fierce, fighting exultation swept through him. So she had appealed to Windsor--she had cared enough to do this thing! "By gad, that means a lot!" he muttered. "A lot! She's had time to think it over, and there's still hope--" The voice of Windsor came from the next room, addressing his stenographer. "If anything important comes up, call me at the office of Williams & Slosson, across from the Board of Trade--you know where it is." Windsor appeared. "All right," he said. "Let's go!" CHAPTER VII The brokerage firm of Williams & Slosson had not yet arrived at the point of throwing away money on externals. The offices consisted of a reception room and outer office, and two private offices, in one of the old buildings across from the Board of Trade. Under their windows was Monument Place. All the life of the city flowed around and through and under the monument; from his desk, Ried Williams had beneath his eyes the pulsing heart of Indianapolis. Upon this particular Tuesday morning, however, he was taking no interest whatever in the view. He had arrived early at the office and was in irritable humor. "No word yet from Mr. Slosson?" he snapped at the typist. "No, sir."