Marcus Stone, president of the greatest banking force of the country, the Columbus National, was a middle-westerner, sprung from the hardy soil of Ohio, virile, deep-lunged, direct and domineering, agent of colossal enterprises, rooted in conservatism and regarding his vocation as an almost sacred call. He accounted himself a poor man; he was worth only three millions. Rupert V. Steele, head of the legal firm of Steele, Forshay & Benton, corporation lawyers, was the type of the brilliant Southerner, adventuring into the Eldorado of New York as the Gascon seeks Paris or the Irishman the lure of London. He might almost be said to have created a new profession—the lawyer-promoter—and in his capacious, fertile head had been evolved the schemes of law-avoiding combinations that others received the credit for. In public he was one of the stanchest defenders of the Constitution and an eloquent exponent of the sanctity of the judiciary. With the exception of Fontaine and Marx, in this varied group of master-adventurers, all had begun life with little better than the coats on their backs, and the colossal fortunes which roughly totaled two billions had been amassed in virtually twenty years. This is a point which future economists may ponder over with profit. At Slade’s entrance the conversation abruptly ceased and each in his own manner studied the new arrival; some with languid, confident curiosity; Forscheim, who had old scores to settle, with a glance of unrestrained satisfaction; Steele, leaning a little forward, eager in his inquisitorial mind to divine the attack, already convinced that such a personality as Slade would not come without an aggressive defense. The second glance reassured Slade, for he distinguished in the group the conflicting rivalries and perceived by what slender checks the irrepressible jealousies and antagonisms had been stilled. "If they’ve got together," he said to himself with a sudden delight in a favorable hazard, "it’s because they’re scared to the ground and they want to shut off the panic first and trim me second. Good! That’s what I wanted to be sure of." He advanced to the head of the table, swinging into place a heavy chair which he swept through the air as though it had been paper, and, resolved to acquire the advantage of initiative, said: "Well, gentlemen, let’s get right down to business. I’ve come to get five millions." In their astonishment several pushed back their chairs with a harsh, grating sound. Forscheim laughed aloud insolently, but Steele, sensitive to small things, instantly determined to employ caution, to be the last to crush him if he failed, and the first to support him if he had indeed the power to survive.