“Well, I’ll weather it all right, if that’s what you mean,” said Joe.
“I hope so—I sincerely hope so,” said Mr. Ackerman in a tone which implied grave doubt. “By the way, since I was here I mentioned in a certain quarter—no matter where—the possibility of your being willing to stock your business or sell it, and I think a very good arrangement might be made—good from your standpoint, I mean. Let me tell you just what might be done.”
“I won’t trouble you,” said Joe. “I told you once I wasn’t open to anything of the kind.”
“But this would be most advantageous,” Ackerman persisted. “It would allow you to retain practical control of the business and give you more money than you are making at present.”
“Drop it!” rasped Joe. “You and your friends will get hold of the pieces of my business when you smash it and me, and not before.”
Mr. Ackerman was amazed, shocked, and pained. At least his face assumed an expression combining all three emotions.
“My dear boy——”
“What’s the use?” Joe interrupted hotly. “I know more about you than I did. You and your fellow directors of the railway raised the rate on lumber and tipped off the Clancys in advance. You nearly got me on that. You and your fellow directors of the bank tried to close me out when my security was ample. You and your fellow directors of the loan company wouldn’t give me an ordinary extension of time for an interest payment. And if I went into any such arrangement as you seem prepared to suggest you’d cut my throat and throw me overboard when it suited you. And so, Mr. Ackerman, I think we may as well close this interview now.”
“I assure you——” Mr. Ackerman began earnestly.
“Don’t!” Joe interrupted curtly. “I wouldn’t believe you.”