The Fighting Chance

Siward had never before seen Plank aroused, and he said so, smiling.

"That is true," said Plank earnestly; "I waste little temper over my likes and dislikes. But what I know, and what I legitimately infer concerning the younger Quarrier is enough to rouse any man's anger. I won't tell you what I know. I can't. It has nothing to do with his financial methods, nothing to do with this business; but it is bad--bad all through! The blow his father struck at the integrity of the bench the son strikes at the very key-stone of all social safeguard. It isn't my business; I cannot interfere; but Siward, I'm a damned restless witness, and the old, primitive longing comes back on me to strike--to take a stick and use it to splinters on that man whom I am going down town to politely confer with! … And I must go now. Good-bye. … Take care of that ankle. Any books I can send you--anything you want? No? All right. And don't worry over Amalgamated Electric, for I really believe we are beginning to frighten them badly."

"Good-bye," said Siward. "Don't forget that I'm always at home."

"You must get out," muttered Plank; "you must get well, and get out into the sunshine." And he went ponderously down-stairs to the square hall, where Gumble held his hat and gloves ready for him.

He had come in a big yellow and black touring-car; and now, with a brief word to his mechanic, he climbed into the tonneau, and away they sped down town--a glitter of bull's-eye, brass, and varnish, with the mellow, horn notes floating far in their wake.

It was exactly four o'clock when he was ushered into Quarrier's private suite in the great marble Algonquin Loan and Trust Building, the upper stories of which were all golden in the sun against a sky of sapphire.

Quarrier was alone, gloved and hatted, as though on the point of leaving. He showed a slight surprise at seeing Plank, as if he had not been expecting him; and the manner of offering his hand subtly emphasised it as he came forward with a trace of inquiry in his greeting.

"You said four o'clock, I believe," observed Plank bluntly.

"Ah, yes. It was about that--ah--matter--ah--I beg your pardon; can you recollect?"

"I don't know what it is you want. You requested this meeting," said Plank, yawning.

"Certainly. I recollect it perfectly now. Will you sit here, Mr. Plank--for a moment--"

"If it concerns Inter-County, it will take longer than a moment--unless you cannot spare the time now," said Plank. "Shall we call it off?"

"As a matter of fact I am rather short of time just now."