"But, as I understand it—at least, his original motive was simply a political ambition. We can easily gratify that."
"He wants fireworks—something that'll make the popular heart warm up to him. He has a long head. He wants some basis, at least, in popularity, so that he won't be quite at the mercy of you gentlemen, should you turn against him."
"I see—I see," said Trafford. "He was counting on the reputation he would make as an inquisitor. Yes, that would give him quite a push. But—there ought to be plenty of other matters he might safely and even, perhaps, beneficially, inquire into. For instance, there is the Bee Hive Mutual—a really infamous swindle. I've had dealings with many unattractive characters in the course of my long business career, Mr. Armstrong, but with none so repellent in every way as Dillworthy. He has made that huge institution a private graft for himself and his family. He is shocking, even in this day of loose conceptions of honesty and responsibility."
"Have you any facts?"
"Some, and they are at Mr. Morris's disposal. But all he needs to do is to send for the books of the Bee Hive. I am credibly informed—you can rely on it—that the Dillworthys have got so bold that they do not even look to the books. The grafting in that company is quite as extensive and as open as in our large industrial and railway corporations—and, you know, they haven't profited by the lesson we in the insurance companies had in the great investigation."
"Your proposal will content Morris, I think," Armstrong now said. "As the Dillworthys aren't entangled with any of the other large interests, showing them up will not cause a spreading agitation." He laughed. "There's a sermon against selfishness! If old Dillworthy hadn't been so greedy, so determined to keep it all in the family, he wouldn't be in this position."
"There will be general satisfaction over his exposure," replied Trafford. "And it will greatly benefit, tone up, the whole business world."
"Really, it's our Christian duty to concentrate on the Busy Bee, isn't it?" said Armstrong sardonically. "Well— Can you see Atwater to-night?"
"I'm going direct to his house. But where shall I find you? You said you had an engagement."
Armstrong winced as if a wound had been roughly set to aching. "I'll be here," he said gruffly.