“I know I am. It’s an ideal day for work. So I haven’t done any. I left the office ahead of time and came to see if I could lure you into a walk before we go to the Club. You don’t seem much worried over the outcome.” “Why should I be? I’ll win. I always win.” “Conover,” said Caine, observing his friend with the condescendingly interested air of a visitor at the Zoo, “If I had your sublime conceit I’d be President of the United States or the richest man in America, or some other such odious personage whose shoes we all secretly fear we may some day fill.” “President? Richest man?” repeated Conover, mildly attracted by the dual idea. “Give me time and I’ll likely be both. I’ve made a little start on the second already, to-day.” “Won another fight?” queried Caine. “Yes, a big one. The biggest yet, by far.” “Nothing to do with Steeloid, I suppose!” suggested the visitor, a note of real concern peering through his customary air of amused calm. “_All_ about Steeloid,” returned Conover. “The Independent Steeloid Company is incorp’rated at last. Cap’talized at--” “The Independent! That means a slump in our U. S. Steeloid! You call that winning a fight? I thought--” “You’d be better off, Caine, if you’d leave the thinkin’ part of these things to me. Thinkin’ is my game. Not yours. You talk about ‘our’ U. S. Steeloid. You seem to forget I swing seventy-two per cent. of the stock and you own just what I let you in on.” “Never mind all that,” interposed Caine. “If the Independents are banded together, they’ll make things warm for us.” “Not enough to cause any hurry call for electric fans, I guess,” chuckled Conover. “If you’ll stop ‘thinkin’’ a minute or two an’ listen to me, I’ll try to explain. An’ maybe I can hammer into your head a few of the million things you don’t know about finance. Here’s the idea. I built up the Steeloid Trust, didn’t I? And Blacarda and his crowd who had been running a bunch of measly third-rate Steeloid companies, set up a squeal because I could undersell ’em.” “Go on,” urged Caine. “I know all that. You needn’t take a running start with your lesson in high finance. We’ll take it for granted that I read at least the newspaper I own and that I know Blacarda has been trying to organize the independent companies against you. What next?” “Well, they’re organized. Only Blacarda didn’t do it. A high-souled philanthropic geezer that worked through agents, jumped in an’ combined all the independent companies against us an’ got ’em to give him full voting power on all their stock. Put themselves into his hands entirely, you see, for the fight against my Steeloid Trust. Then this noble hearted trust buster incorporated the Independents. The deal went through to-day. I got final word on it just now. The Independents are organized. The votes on every share of their stock is in the control of one man.” “But he’ll--” “An’ that ‘one man,’” resumed the Fighter, “happens to be Caleb Conover.”