“I don’t know that. I’m not familiar enough with the situation in the Fidelity—it’s changing all the time. I simply know that there are factions struggling for the control of it, and hating each other furiously, and ready to do anything in the world to cripple each other. You know that their forty millions of surplus gives an enormous power; I’d rather be able to swing forty millions in the Street than to have ten millions in my own right. And so the giants are fighting for the control of those companies; and you can’t tell who’s in and who’s out—you can never know the real meaning of anything that happens in the struggle. All that you can be sure of is that the game is crooked from end to end, and that nothing that happens in it is what it pretends to be.” Montague listened, half dazed, and feeling as if the ground he stood on were caving beneath his feet. “What do you know about those who brought you this case?” asked his companion, suddenly. “Not much,” he said weakly. Harvey hesitated a moment. “Understand me, please,” he said. “I’ve no wish to pry into your affairs, and if you don’t care to say any more, I’ll understand it perfectly. But I’ve heard it said that the man who started the thing was Ellis.” Montague, in his turn, hesitated; then he said, “That is correct—between you and me.” “Very good,” said Harvey, “and that is what made me suspicious. Do you know anything about Ellis?” “I didn’t,” said the other. “I’ve heard a little since.” “I can fancy so,” said Harvey. “And I can tell you that Ellis is mixed up in life-insurance matters in all sorts of dubious ways. It seems to me that you have reason to be most careful where you follow him.” Montague sat with his hands clenched and his brows knitted. His friend’s talk had been like a flash of lightning; it revealed huge menacing forms in the darkness about him. All the structure of his hopes seemed to be tottering; his case, that he had worked so hard over—his fifty thousand dollars that he had been so proud of! Could it be that he had been tricked, and had made a fool of himself? “How in the world am I to know?” he cried. “That is more than I can tell,” said his friend. “And for that matter, I’m not sure that you could do anything now. All that I could do was to warn you what sort of ground you were treading on, so that you could watch out for yourself in future.” Montague thanked him heartily for that service; and then he went back to his office, and spent the rest of the day pondering the matter.