t is thinly
spread. We make too little obeisance. Too rarely we 'crook the pregnant
hinges of the knee.' Therefore we must be crushed--if possible."

"You mean--"

"I mean that it is in the mind of this generalissimo, to call me before
his staff and 'break' me in full view of his halted ranks."

The cheerful grin on the face of the prospective victim was so
infectious and reassuring that his secretary laughed with revitalized
confidence.

"But how did you learn of this conspiracy, sir?" he demanded.

"The throne which lacks its _cabinet noir_, Carl, is a very precarious
one to sit upon." The "Great Bear" spoke casually. "Our secret service
is fairly satisfactory. Also, we have a brain which, at times,
prognosticates."

"There have been new developments, then?"

Hamilton Burton shrugged his shoulders.

"The stock-holders' meeting of Coal and Ore isn't far distant. After it
comes the annual election of officers. I fancy Malone may know of a man
who might grace the directorate with a more deferential humility than I
show--when he speaks Jove-like from the head of the table."

"To be ousted from that board would mean to wear the brand of defeat."

"If Mr. Malone wants to put some one else in my place he can do it--the
chair I occupy faces the window. Sometimes the glare hurts my eyes."

Carl Bristoll thought he knew his chief. Such docile acceptance of
reduction to the ranks astounded him and his blank amazement stamped
itself on his face. When the elder man had enjoyed it for the space of a
long silence he rose suddenly and his voice rang out like a command for
a bayonet charge:

"Yes, Malone can have my chair. I mean to take his--at the head of the
table."

The secretary started violently. He could never quite accustom himself
to the dauntless fashion with which his chief essayed the
impossible--and accomplished it. Hamilton Burton's fist came down
savagely on the mahogany. The smiling features of a moment ago had
vanished and Bristoll was looking up into eyes that rained immeasurable
wrath.

"They hate me, because they fear me!" The voice was not loud, but it was
terrific in its intensity of anger. "By the Almighty God in heaven, I
mean to give them cause to hate me. I mean to crush them to a pulp until
nothing remains except the stench of their unmourned memory!" ... Once
more the timbre changed and with startling abruptness became quietly
declarative.

"This morning, I received a confidential note f