"Perhaps the railways are discriminating against us," suggested Scarborough. Whitney smiled slightly. "That's your reform politics," said he. "You fellows never seek the natural causes for things; you at once accuse the financiers." Scarborough smiled back at him. "But haven't there been instances of rings in control of railways using their power for plants they were interested in and against competing plants?" "Possibly--to a limited extent," conceded Whitney. "But I hold to the old-fashioned idea. My dear sir, this is a land of opportunity--" "Still, Whitney," interrupted Dr. Hargrave, "there _may_ be something in what Senator Scarborough says." "Undoubtedly," Whitney hastened to answer. "I only hope there is. Then our problem will be simple. I'll set my lawyers to work at once. If that is the cause"--he struck the table resolutely with his clenched fist--"the scoundrels shall be brought to book!" His eyes shifted as he lifted them to find Scarborough looking at him. "You have inside connections with the Chicago railway crowd, have you not, Mr. Whitney?" he inquired. "I think I have," said Whitney, with easy candor. "That's why I feel confident your suggestion has no foundation--beyond your suspicion of all men engaged in large enterprises. It's a wonder you don't suspect me. Indeed, you probably will." He spoke laughingly. Scarborough's answer was a grave smile. "My personal loss may save me from you," Whitney went on. "I hesitate to speak of it, but, as you can see, it is large--almost as large as the university's." "Yes," said Scarborough absently, though his gaze was still fixed on Whitney. "You think you can do nothing?" "Indeed I do not!" exclaimed Whitney. "I shall begin with the assumption that you are right. And if you are, I'll have those scoundrels in court within a month." "And then?" The young senator's expression and tone were calm, but Whitney seemed to find covert hostility in them. "Then--justice!" he replied angrily. Dr. Hargrave beamed benevolent confidence. "Justice!" he echoed. "Thank God for our courts!" "But _when_?" said Scarborough. As there was no answer, he went on: "In five--ten--fifteen--perhaps twenty years. The lawyers are in no hurry--a brief case means a small fee. The judges--they've got their places for life, so there's no reason why they should muss their silk gowns in undignified haste. Besides--It seems to me I've heard somewhere the phrase 'railway judges.'" Dr. Hargrave looked gentle but strong disapproval. "You are too pessimistic, Hampden," said he. "The senator should not let the wounds from his political fights gangrene," suggested Whitney, with good-humored raillery. "Have you nothing but the court remedy to offer?" asked Scarborough, a slight smile on his handsome face, so deceptively youthful. "That's quite enough," answered Whitney. "In my own affairs I've never appealed to the courts in vain."