"There has been mismanagement. Yes. There have also been illegal transactions, criminal acts. They were well covered, but I dug them up. I have had able men looking into the affairs of this corporation for some time. I repeat, if you throw it into involuntary liquidation, I will put at least three of you behind the bars."
To Rod it was like having a box seat at a melodrama. Again the masks failed these men. His father had stung them twice. First with an insult, then with a threat. They looked furtive; they seemed apprehensive. They remained silent, glancing sidelong at each other. All but John P. Wall. He took out a cigar, lit it very deliberately after biting off the end, while his gaze traveled slowly about the circle of perturbed faces. His own remained placid.
"What do you propose then, Norquay?" he asked casually.
"That we assess ourselves proportionately to replace the funds which have been—dissipated. Appoint a new manager. Replace this board of directors and carry on until such time as this concern can be wound up with every obligation discharged."
Wall shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "Far as I'm concerned—not a bean. I'm through. Let 'er crash."
Sheeplike they followed his lead. They seemed to gather courage. Their money was their lifeblood. They would not spill it lightly. Other people's money, perhaps. Not their own.
They gathered voice. They protested that no sensible man would try to bolster up a tottering business. Why should they risk large sums when they could avoid risk by merely stepping aside?
"I can't step aside," Norquay senior answered them quietly. "You wouldn't understand if I told you why. So you refuse, then? Very well. I have told you what will follow an enforced receivership. I stand on that."
He kept the same position, fingertips resting on the polished wood, staring at them with open hostility, frank contempt. He remained silent after reaching this impasse.