Rayfield sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Emmett lifted his lip at Bill like a wolf and did not move. "No use trying to put up any bluff," he snarled. "You're the president of this Company--you sign all the checks, don't you? If you don't know where the Company stands, who would?" The small, shrewd-faced man interrupted, standing a bit forward from the group. "All this is interesting," he said, "but it don't get us fellows anywhere. We came to find out about the payroll. We've been stood off now for ten days. We want to know where we stand." Bill turned his head and studied the men briefly, the small man longest. "You stand in line, along with the rest of the bunch," he said, with a heartening grin. "Go back and tell the men to mosey down here to the office. They'll get their pay, all right." They looked at him, and from him their eyes went to the other two. The small man turned to the door. "They'll be here, Mr. Dale," he said. Bill never could decide afterwards just what lay behind the little man's words. They had sounded somewhat like a threat. "Get out the payroll, John," he said crisply. "And the nice, big check book I've kept signed up for you. The men will be here, and they'll have to be paid." "There's not enough money in the bank to pay them." Emmett's voice was surly. "Get the books, I said. The men are going to be paid." Perhaps Emmett thought it would not be worth while to oppose him. Perhaps he knew the temper the men would be in. He brought the books, slapping them down on Rayfield's desk ill-naturedly. "They've waited ten days," said Bill. "You begin figuring their time up to and including to-day." Rayfield ceased for a moment to drum his fingers. "They've been out for two days, Bill," he said. "Quit of their own accord." "Up to and including to-day," Bill repeated distinctly. He picked up the telephone and called the bank, asked for the Company's balance and got it. The modesty of that balance astonished him, even now. "Send up a messenger for a deposit," he said easily and put down the 'phone. "Now, what's the payroll?" "Including our salaries, which have not been paid for the last three months----" Bill reached out a long arm and got him by the front, pulling him close. "I'd love to smash every bone in your body, you tame bandit," he gritted. "But we won't add any rough stuff to this--yet. I want to find out, first, just how rough to make it." He let John go with a savage push that slammed him against the wall. "I want you two crooks to know just where I stand," he said between his teeth. "You've raided and wrecked my Company, deliberately, and as completely as you could. You've squeezed the lemon dry, and you've been peddling lies about me and mine, to cover up your dirty work. I don't need to be knocked down with a club, once my eyes are open. You've asked me to accept paper for my dividends, all summer, so there would be a decent cut for the rest. I did it,--and don't you reckon I can't _prove_ it?