At noon the following day Helm left his office—an hour earlier than usual—and went home. At the sitting-room door he paused. After a brief hesitation he opened the door and entered. As he expected, there were his wife and her father. Helm glanced at the troubled face of his wife. Without greeting his father-in-law he said to her:
“He has told you?”
“It’s true then, George?” replied she.
He nodded.
Clearwater interposed with angry dignity:
“I’ve been laying the whole case before my daughter, sir—your proposed attempt to disgrace and to ruin me.”
Helm now looked at him. “You have had six warnings,” said he. “You could have made your corporation obey the laws—or you could have sold your holdings and gotten away from it.”
“We have disobeyed no laws,” retorted Clearwater. “We have simply disregarded alleged laws enacted by demagogues to compel us to pay blackmail or go out of business.”
“Your own lawyers drew the laws,” replied Helm, “and Sayler ordered them passed six years ago. But they were intended for use against any rival to your monopoly that might spring up.”
“You’ll let us alone, or you’ll never hold another office in this state,” cried Clearwater. “I came here to ask my daughter to use her influence with you to save yourself from destruction. I had forgotten what an obstinate visionary you were. But I think even you will hesitate before breaking her heart, bowing her head with shame.”