"That matters only to the man who runs it. Either way it would wreck your line—and you. As my time here is short, don't pretend that it wouldn't, because, of course, I know that you know that it would."
"Am I to understand," said the chairman, angrily, "that you come here to threaten me with this new line?"
"Well, I was talking about a carriage-cleaner. I want him rewarded. I want it done right away. When I want anything done I don't tell myself that I won't spend more than a couple of millions on getting it done."
"Men like you ought not to be allowed to live. I tell you that plainly, Mr Verd."
"There are no men like me. Good-afternoon, then."
"Oh, wait, wait! The man deserves to be rewarded, only these things must be done in the regular way. If he will write to—"
"I'm going to no underlings," said Cyrus Verd, "and I'm in a hurry. Next time I mark that map, those marks will stop there!"
The chairman seemed suddenly to recollect something. "What was this about a carriage-cleaner? Oh, yes, it's irregular; but naturally you wouldn't understand. I'll see about it myself."
"When?"
"Within six weeks."