“It’s got to go.”
“First crack out of the box—as soon as I begin to attack—it will close a lot of plants and throw fifty thousand workers—men, women and children—out of employment.”
“Is that as bad as what it’s doing?”
“No,” admitted Desbrough. “Not one hundredth part as bad. But it’ll look worse. Everybody will think and say it’s worse.”
“What are you afraid of, Bill? I know it isn’t yourself. What is it?”
Desbrough looked steadily at his friend. “You know what the T. & M. is—who it really is?”
“Anybody especial?”
“It’s controlled by—your father-in-law.”
This was by no means the first time that George Helm had been faced with the difficulties necessarily involved in his having married the daughter of one of the leading politico-business traffickers of the Middle West. But theretofore each difficulty had come in some form that enabled him to keep on his course without wounding his wife’s sensibilities, and with no other ill effect than deepening his father-in-law’s secret hatred and detestation. But now the long-dreaded crisis seemed to have come.
“We’ve warned that company several times,” said he, reflecting.