"I was just telling Miss Brent," informed the lawyer, coldly, "that with these proxies which I have obtained and just handed to her, she was in complete control of the company."
"And you, Mr. Balcom," interposed Locke, stepping forward, "will play no further part in the activities of the company. Miss Brent desires your resignation, to take effect immediately."
"Why—why—this is unheard of—absurd!" sputtered Balcom. "I'll—I'll—" And his rage got the better of him.
"No, Mr. Balcom," again interrupted Locke, "you will do nothing. It is I who will give you twenty-four hours to arrange your affairs with the company before I order your removal—or arrest."
Balcom tried to remonstrate, to plead his innocence of any wrong-doing. Finding no sympathy by taking this attitude, his manner changed abruptly and he attempted to bluster.
A decisive movement toward the telephone on the part of Locke checked this and, chameleon-like, Balcom's usual suave manner came to the fore. He bowed himself out.
"It will, of course, be as you say." He smiled oilily.
Once in the hall, however, his manner changed again, and, darkly scowling and biting his thin lips, he was about to quit the place, when Zita, limping only slightly, intercepted him.
"Mr. Balcom," she pleaded, "come out the back way. I must see you alone a moment."
They tiptoed out to the grounds, and, behind a hedge where they could not be observed from the house, talked.