vice-president was flung backward upon a deep leather
divan. He rose unsteadily, but, meeting Buddy's threatening gaze and
realizing the impossibility of getting past him, he cried: "Let me out
of here! Let me out, damn you! I--I'll get you for this, Gray. Let me
out, I tell you!"

"Buddy!" Gray jerked his head in the direction of the door to one of
the adjoining offices. "He keeps a gun in his desk--top drawer. Get it
before me makes a fool of himself." Young Briskow stepped out of the
room. Gray continued, speaking to the others, "I have something to say
to you gentlemen before we go on with the meeting, and I wish to say it
in the presence of Colonel Nelson and his--"

"You'll not keep me here. I refuse to stay," Henry shouted, and he
pushed past Swope toward the door.

"Wait!" It was the elder Nelson speaking, and in his voice was a new
note--a note of triumph. "Stock can't be transferred at an annual
meeting. It has to be done in advance--ten days, I think it is. Am I
right, Senator?"

"That is the usual procedure," Senator Lowe agreed.

"Better look it up and make sure," Gray directed.

There followed a few moments of uncomfortable silence while the bank's
attorney ran through the by-laws. It seemed to those waiting that it
was a long time before he frowned and shook his head.

"I--ah--I can find nothing against it. It seems I have nothing to do
except transfer the shares."

"Then there won't be any meeting!" Bell loudly declared.

The three directors greeted this remark with exclamations of genuine
relief. "Sure! Let's adjourn--put it over until--" one of them began,
but the bank's president was bellowing in rising fury at the
interlopers:

"Get out! Get out of my office, d'you hear? Get out--"

"Looks to me like it's _my_ office," Gus Briskow said, quietly, "or it
will be, directly. You, Bell, put on the muffler! I came a long ways to
attend this meetin'. It's the first one I ever been to, an' it's goin'
to happen. Shut up your fuss! I want you to hear what Mr. Gray's got to
say."

"To hell with him, and you, too!" stormed the financier. "Hold the
meeting, eh? Hold it if you dare! I defy you. Steal my bank,
double-cross me--We'll see about that. Come along, Henry."

"You're in," Gray said, menacingly; "you'd better stay and vote your
stock or you may never get back again." But neither father nor son
heeded him. When they had gone he frowned. "I'm sorry. Really I am. I
hoped I could force--"