"Hope he leaves me alone in my glory," said Macgowan. Then his face cleared. "Say, one reason I dropped in was about Findlater. I think our merry little president is going to spring a motion at next week's meeting for salaried directors." Armstrong's face tightened ominously. "So he wants a cut of the melon?" "Probably. He has some of the others with him, and figures that by springing a good argument he can get away with it. Judge Holcomb is dead against him, of course." "Naturally; Holcomb's square. What's your advice?" Macgowan's gaze searched Armstrong with a steady and appraising scrutiny. "If it was my affair, Reese, I'd throw 'em out. Bounce them hard, get rid of them for good! They're under contract to serve for three years, without salary, in return for stock allotted them; we're where we can do without 'em, and we owe them no debt of gratitude for getting Consolidated under way. A bunch of real live men on the board would help us tremendously just now. I say, if they start any fuss, bounce them and begin over!" Armstrong settled back in his chair, and shook his head slightly. "Well, why not?" demanded Macgowan. "For the very reasons you name." Armstrong stared out the window and puffed silently. This immobility irritated Macgowan. "What reasons?" he exclaimed harshly. "I do owe them a certain gratitude for backing me. They did it selfishly, but they did it. And I'm too darned human to forget that they did it." "Too darned inhuman, you mean," interjected Macgowan cynically. Armstrong shrugged. "I'm not an automatic machine, and don't want the reputation of being one. It's because I'm human, Mac, that we've got nearly sixteen thousand investors on our books, letting us handle their money. Next year, twenty thousand. I don't believe in using a man for what you can get out of him, then kicking him off the pedestal. Findlater may be a fool and a crook, but he helped us. I don't care to be known as a business machine; can't afford it. The business of to-day and to-morrow isn't being run that way." "Chivalric balderdash!" Macgowan growled and mouthed his cigar. "Ever hear of Don Quixote?" Armstrong, eyeing his friend, burst suddenly into a laugh. "What's got into you, Mac? Are you talking what you believe, or what you think is for my good?" "For your own good, Reese! Damn it, I know this game better than you!" Macgowan's burst of words came with the fury of repressed energy. Now appeared the hitherto unguessed side of the man, the angry, passionate arrogance of his mind which was usually so well covered from sight. "Those fellows would kick you out this minute if they could--you and me both! That shyster Findlater would knife you in the back if he had a chance. The very thought of our earnings, of our funds, makes 'em sweat to get their paws on the money! You fool, you're in business! Why don't you realize it?"