“I call upon you men here to stick to the old colours,” roared the colonel, turning and making a direct attack upon Sam. “Do not let this ungrateful upstart, this son of a drunken village housepainter, that I picked up from among the cabbages of South Water Street, win you away from your loyalty to the old leader. Do not let him steal by trickery what we have won only by years of effort.” The colonel, leaning on the table, glared about the room. Sam felt relieved and glad of the direct attack. “It justifies what I am going to do,” he thought. When Colonel Tom had finished Sam gave a careless glance at the old man’s red face and trembling fingers. He had no doubt that the outburst of eloquence had fallen upon deaf ears and without comment put Webster’s motion to the vote. To his surprise two of the new employé directors voted their stock with Colonel Tom’s, and a third man, voting his own stock as well as that of a wealthy southside real estate man, did not vote. On a count the stock represented stood deadlocked and Sam, looking down the table, raised his eyebrows to Webster. “Move we adjourn for twenty-four hours,” snapped Webster, and the motion carried. Sam looked at a paper lying before him on the table. During the count of the vote he had been writing over and over on the sheet of paper this sentence. “The best men spend their lives seeking truth.” Colonel Tom walked out of the room like a conqueror, declining to speak to Sam as he passed, and Sam looked down the table at Webster and made a motion with his head toward the man who had not voted. Within an hour Sam’s fight was won. Pouncing upon the man representing the stock of the south-side investor, he and Webster did not go out of the room until they had secured absolute control of the Rainey Company and the man who had refused to vote had put twenty-five thousand dollars into his pocket. The two employeé directors Sam marked for slaughter. Then after spending the afternoon and early evening with the representatives of the eastern companies and their attorneys he drove home to Sue. It was past nine o’clock when his car stopped before the house and, going at once to his room, he found Sue sitting before his fire, her arms thrown above her head and her eyes staring at the burning coals. As Sam stood in the doorway looking at her a wave of resentment swept over him. “The old coward,” he thought, “he has brought our fight here to her.” Hanging up his coat he filled his pipe and drawing up a chair sat beside her. For five minutes Sue sat staring into the fire. When she spoke there was a touch of hardness in her voice. “When everything is said, Sam, you do owe a lot to father,” she observed, refusing to look at him. Sam said nothing and she went on.