"I have it," said Slade, who had recognized Delancy Gilbert, of the firm of Gilbert, Drake & Bauerman, brokers and promoters of mining interests in Mexico, whose failure had been circulated from lip to lip in the last forty-eight hours. "I see that game. Gilbert’s to be mulcted of his Osaba interests—for whom though? The United Mining, undoubtedly." Five minutes later the doors of the library opened in turn and a military figure, gray, bent, with tears in his eyes, came slowly out, the type of convenient figureheads which stronger men place in the presidencies of subsidiary corporations. He likewise placed a sheet of paper before the financier, watching him from the corner of his eye, his white finger working nervously in the grizzled mustache. "We’ve agreed on this, Mr. Gunther," he said desperately, in a voice shaken by suppressed emotion. "That’s as far as we can go—and that means ruin!" Gunther examined the sheet with slow attention, nodding favorably twice; but at a third column he shook his head and, seizing a pencil, jotted down a figure, carefully drawing a circle around it. "That’s what I must have," he said and returned to his solitaire. The emissary hesitated, seemed about to argue, and then, with a hopeless heave of his shoulders, retired. Gunther frowned but the frown was called forth by an unfavorable conjunction of the cards. Not once had he seemed to notice the presence of Slade. In the same position the promoter could not have helped stealing a glance to witness the effect. Slade registered the observation, mentally admitting the difference. "What does he keep me here for?" he thought, but almost immediately answered the question: "Effect on the others, of course. Well, let them pull their own chestnuts out of the fire." In the last emissary he had recognized General Arthur Roe Paxton, President of the Mohican Trust, exploiter of certain Southern oil fields, equally involved in the Osaba speculation. The knowledge of the operations which were being discussed—which he readily divined were the surrender of important holdings—prepared him for the demands he must expect to meet. At this moment Gunther swept the cards together, glanced at his watch, and pressed an electric button. "Mr. Slade," he said, fixing his lantern-like stare upon the promoter, "I need not tell you that we are in a desperate situation, that it is time for action—decisive and immediate action." Slade answered by an impatient jerking of his thumb, and, rising as he beheld the secretary returning from the private office where he had been sent by a look of Gunther’s, said: "I understand perfectly. If the gentlemen whom I am to meet understand the situation as well as I do, we shall have no trouble."