The big man stared at him as though fascinated. His dark face began to work convulsively in an obvious attempt to voice that which disturbed him. Clark watched it all. "Well," he said with ill concealed impatience, "if it's not an imaginary riot that's troubling you, I'll say good evening. I'm rather busy at the moment." At that Manson half lifted himself out of his chair and leaned forward. "It's the works," he whispered huskily, "are they all going to hell?" Clark stared at him in open astonishment. It was an absurd thing that at this moment he should be subjected to a visit from a man who had never believed in him, but who was now evidently torn by anxiety at the thought of his failure. There came a swift and silent suggestion, but the thing was too remote. "Mr. Manson," he said slowly, "you never took any stock in me or my efforts, so why worry?" "But that's just what I did do," croaked the constable, reddening to his temples. "I invested all I could and," he added dully, "I've got it now." "Ah! so that's it?" "And I'd be grateful if you could tell me--" "So you said one thing and did another!" The tones were like a knife. "Well, that's your privilege, and none of my affair, and," he concluded curtly, "I don't care to discuss it. Good evening." But Manson was on his feet, too desperate to be denied. "It's not your affair what I may have said or done? I'm a shareholder--a large one. I've a right to come here and ask you a question. It's nothing unreasonable--and you'll answer it." He stood over the smaller man, dark and threatening. Clark laughed in his face, till, with that extraordinary perception which so frequently cleft to the essential essence of things, he perceived that there was that which was more important than the fact that Manson had been speculating and would certainly be bitten. His attitude in public was worth something--at any rate in St. Marys. Known universally as a critic and pessimist, it would be notable if now, in the time of crisis, he became a supporter. Manson as a shareholder did not matter, but officially he did matter. Very swiftly Clark ran over this in his mind, while the big man waited, no longer a menace but only a straw borne by the flood which was the creation of Clark's imagination. There was no doubt in the latter's mind as to the ultimate solution of present difficulties. He still believed, as he always believed, in himself, in the country and in his enterprise. So, very deliberately, he began to talk.