Dorothy started slightly. For one instant she dimly suspected the truth behind all this talk; for an instant only. It was gone at once and forgotten. "He won't do that," she said steadily. "He can't do that, Pete. He's fighting now for all the men and women who believe in him, for the investors--" Slosson turned bitter eyes upon her. "Have you fallen for that talk?" He laughed harshly. "Listen! I want to help Reese--for your sake. I want to save him, if I can. But don't give me that campaign bunk--it's nothing else. Listen to facts! Don't you know why he's pretending to fight for the sixteen thousand investors? Because that's his only possible shield. If Macgowan came out and charged him with wrecking Food Products and stealing it from your father, Reese could stand on his dignity and deny the charge. But what can he say to the law--to indictments and proof, and conviction? A grand jury has to be shown facts. If Macgowan shows those affidavits that I signed with Williams--good night! "Don't think that Reese meant wrong," hurried on Slosson. "He really saw only the one way to save Food Products, and took it. The rest of us had run things into the ground, sure enough. About this stock issue, he took the same chances that four out of five business men take every day. Why, I can see now that when he kicked us all out, it was for the best all around! It's been the makings of me. And your father has realized that the company was better off without him--he was glad to be saved from the wreck at any price." A faint tremor passed through Dorothy's body. If every word that Slosson was uttering had been craftily calculated to pierce her heart, the end could not have been better attained. Slosson concluded rapidly. "Dot, I tell you that this man Macgowan is a terrible enemy. He is vindictive, cunning, treacherous! He's all that's bad--and now he has Reese absolutely by the neck. Reese will be indicted and jailed in every state where the stock was sold, unless he acts at once and ends the fight with Macgowan." Dorothy was watching him now with terrified eyes. Her doubts had fled, dissipated by his tremendous earnestness. "But he can't give in--" "He has to. Do you know whom I met on the train coming to town? Tom Windsor." She was caught by the name. Dorothy knew Tom Windsor very well. He was an Evansville boy, and every one there knew him. Now he was in Indianapolis, assistant state's attorney general. Dorothy, in common with every one, knew him for a man of the most unimpeachable integrity, of the most sterling character. His name was commonly linked with that of Federal Judge Sanderson--the two men were known to stand for the same stern, rigid, unwavering application of the law, Roman in its severity, recognizing neither influence nor wealth nor position in any offender. It was Windsor who had placed the mayor and entire council of one Indiana city in the penitentiary.