"But I'll be put into state prison."
"Nonsense, my boy! Why would you vote those proxies according to your
instructions? Why, because it would be for your interest to do so if
I hadn't come in here with a better proposition. Now it's for your
interest to vote 'em as I tell you. The most they can make out of it
is a breach of trust, and that amounts to nothing. With five thousand
dollars in your mitt, you wouldn't need to hang around here to take
a lot of slurs. I'll slip you another thousand for your expenses on a
little trip till the air is all clear."
Boyne stared at this blunt and forceful tempter; his hand which clutched
the chair-arms trembled; "I'm going to be still more frank with you,
my boy. And, by the way, you must know that I'm no mere four-flusher.
You've heard of Fletcher Fogg, eh? You knew who I was when you got that
wire from me yesterday?"
"Why, yes, I know of you through our corporation work, sir."
"Exactly!" Mr. Fogg assumed even more unctuously the manner of an old
friend. "Now, as I say, I'm going to be frank--take you in on the ground
floor. Of course, they can have another--a special meeting of the Vose
line after a thirty days' notice to the stockholders. They will probably
call that meeting, and I don't care if they do. But I have an ambition
to be general manager of the line for those thirty days to make--well, I
want to make a little investigation of general conditions," declared Mr.
Fogg, resorting to his purple handkerchief. "That's all I care to say.
At the end of thirty days we may--I'm speaking of the big interests
I represent--we may decide to buy the line and make it really worth
something to the stockholders. You understand, I hope. It's strictly
business--it's all right--it's good financiering. After it's all over
and those old, hardshell directors wake up, I'll venture to say they'll
be pleased all around that this little turn has been made. In the
mean time, having been taken care of, you needn't mind whether they're
pleased or not."
Boyne looked at the sheaf of certificates in Fogg's hand; he bent
frightened gaze on the documents stacked on the desk. They lay there
representing his responsibility, but they also represented opportunity.
The sight of them was a rebuke to the agitated thoughts of treason
which assailed him. But the mere papers had no voice to make that rebuke
pointed.