Armstrong shook his head. "I'm a lawyer, but not in Macgowan's class." "You'll take my advice?" "I didn't come here to talk baseball." Dorns grinned at that, and turned to his desk telephone. He called a number. "Robert Dorns talking; give me Mr. Mansfield," he said curtly. Then, after a pause: "Hello! This you, Q. Adams? Dorns on the wire. Say, did you ever know me to go wrong on a man?" He paused, chuckled, then went on: "I'm sending a man up to see you. Name's Armstrong. It ain't law he needs; he's a lawyer himself. What he needs is you, and all you got! Him and you and I are going to bust Lawrence Macgowan. Think we can do it?" He glanced over the instrument at Armstrong, a whimsical glance, and grinned. "Willin' to try the impossible, huh? All right. When and where?" An instant later he grunted, pushed aside the telephone, swung his chair around, and faced Armstrong. "You go see Quincy Adams Mansfield at seven o'clock, Union League Club, and talk to him like you've just talked to me, see? Now let's get to work, me lad. This man of yours, Wren. Where is he?" "Tampa. Macgowan has him on the way to Europe." "Want him back?" "Yes." "He'll be here on the next train. What's my first job?" "Go after this fool investigation," said Armstrong promptly. "Macgowan started it as part of the scheme to scare me. Kill it." "I'll take care of that," said Dorns grimly. "This bird has sent around to a bunch of stockholders and persuaded 'em to sign affidavits; it's easy done, me lad. Sell a man a ten-dollar gold piece for a dollar, and somebody can make him think he's been swindled. Now, I'll handle this with Q. Adams, and we'll see it through. Your letter files, instructions to agents, and a few questions to the disgruntled guys--it's a pipe! I'll knock that investigation sky high. What next?" "I don't know yet," said Armstrong. "The annual meeting of Consolidated will take place the first Monday in April--the third. The voting trust will have expired then." "You'll not turn over your stock to Macgowan, as you agreed?" "No!" Armstrong's jaw set. "The agreement was signed through fraud. I'll refuse to keep it. If I kept it, Consolidated would be absolutely gone!" "Humph! In three months he can loot hell out of the company anyhow. Now, I want some operatives scattered through that place of yours by to-morrow night. Who does the hiring, anybody you can trust? I want to keep tabs on Macgowan." Armstrong mentioned Evarts, who would be able to place the operatives. "All right. Now, what you got to be afraid of in the past?" "Nothing." "Aw, come clean! Macgowan is goin' to rake hell with a fine-toothed comb the minute he gets wise that you're after him. Where'd you come from? Ever arrested?" Armstrong laughed. "No." He gave a brief sketch of his life to date. When he had finished, Dorns nodded.