“I'm not afraid of the beating! I wish that was all there was to it,” muttered Fogg. He led the way into the hotel and Mayo followed, getting a new grip on himself, conscious that there was some new crisis in his affairs, scenting surrender of some sort in Fogg's astonishing humility. “Will you smoke?” asked Fogg, obsequiously, when they were in the hotel room. “No!” He refused with venom. He saw himself in one of the long mirrors and had not realized until then how unkempt and uncouth he was. He was ill at ease when he sat down in a cushioned chair. For weeks he had been accustomed to the rude makeshifts of shipboard. In temper and looks he felt like a cave-man. “I'm in hopes that we can get together on some kind of a friendly basis,” entreated Fogg, humbly. “Simply fighting the thing over again won't get us anywhere. I had to do certain things and I did them. You spoke of my iron wishbone! Now about that _Montana_ matter--” “I don't want any rehearsal, Mr. Fogg. What's your business with me?” “It's hard to start unless I can feel that you'd listen to some explanations and make some allowances. When a man works for Julius Marston he has to forget himself and do--” “I have worked for Julius Marston!” “But not in the finance game, Mayo!” There was a tremble in the promoter's voice. “Men are only shadows to him when it's a matter of big finance. He gives his orders to have results produced. He doesn't stop to think about the men concerned. It's the figures on his books he looks at! He uses a man like he'd use a napkin at table!” “As you used me! You have had good training!” “Well, if the trick was passed on down, it's now being passed on up,” stated Fogg, despondently. “I'm the goat, right now. Can't you view me personally in this matter?” “I don't want to. I would get up and use these fists on you, sore as they are!” “I'm afraid it's going to be a tough matter for us to settle,” sighed the promoter. “I thought I had everything tied up in the usual way. Damn it, if it wasn't for a woman being mixed into it, the thing would have worked out all right!” He let his temper loose. “You can never reckon on business when a woman sticks in her fingers! I don't care if you are in love with Marston's daughter, Mayo! She is like a lot of other cursed high-flier girls who have always had more time and money than is good for them. She is Trouble swishing petticoats! And you must have considerable of a mortgage on her, seeing that she has double-crossed her own father in order to pull your chestnuts out of the fire!” Having not the least idea what Mr. Fogg was talking about, Mayo was silent. “You're a cool one! I must hand it to you!” snapped the promoter. “You'd better leave the name of Miss Marston out of this business with me, sir.” “How in blazes can I leave it out, seeing what she has done?”