Their gaze on Rogers's face, all waited for him to speak--Jordon, astounded, the five pale with the fear of loss, the Mayor glowering, David with a sense that supreme ruin was crushing upon them. At length Rogers's lips moved. "It is true," he whispered. "What if it is?" roared the Mayor at Mr. Chambers. "There's nothin' agin him now!" "I'm making no charges against him," returned Mr. Chambers. "This is merely some information it seemed his clients might be interested in having." All eyes again turned upon Rogers. He came slowly to his feet, walked to Mr. Chambers's desk, leaned his hands upon it and directed his large burning eyes down into Mr. Chambers's face. "I have done many bad things, yes," he said in a voice, low, flame-hot, "but nothing as bad as you have just done. You have stolen more this minute than I have stolen in my lifetime." He held his eyes, blazing with accusation, upon Mr. Chambers's imperturbable face for several moments, then looked about on the five owners. There was a chance, a bare chance, they might not turn against him. "Yes, I am Red Thorpe," he said in a vibrant voice that became more and more appealing with every word. "I knew it would be found out--some day. There are some things I always told myself I'd say to the world when this day came. But to you I want to say only this: For ten years I've been honesty itself. I've been honest with you--you know it. If you stand by me, I'll do everything I've promised." He stood rigid, awaiting their verdict. There was a strained silence. The five looked dazedly at Rogers, at one another, completely at a loss. "If the gentlemen desire to entrust their affairs to a most dangerous criminal, one who might defraud them of everything, that is their privilege," put in Mr. Chambers quietly. Their bewilderment was gone; Mr. Chambers's words had roused their property instinct. A murmuring rose among them. David and the Mayor sprang up, but Rogers raised a hand and they remained beside their chairs. A flame began to burn in his white cheeks, in his deep eyes. "I knew this day was coming," he said in a low voice, that had a wild bitter ring of challenge. "Instead of you, you weaklings"--he looked at the five--"and you, you mere soulless Acquisition"--his eyes blazed at Mr. Chambers--"I wish I had the world before me. I'd like to tell it what a vast fool it is in its treatment of such as me--how eyeless and brainless and soulless! Oh, what a fool!... But the world's not here."