"Using sound business judgment is not cowardice," retorted Trafford. "I owe it to my family, to the stability of business, not to encourage a senseless, a calamitous war."
Atwater shrugged his shoulders. "As you please. I feel that, in this affair, your wishes are paramount. But, at the same time, Trafford, I tell you frankly, I don't like to be trifled with. Nor does Langdon."
"Perhaps Morris and Armstrong might be induced to turn their attention elsewhere—say, to the Busy Bee. Would you not feel compensated by getting control there?"
"Not a bad idea," mused Atwater aloud. "Not by any means a bad idea." He reflected in silence. "If you could arrange that, it would be even better than the plan you ask me to abandon at the eleventh hour."
"Then you agree?" said Trafford, quivering with eagerness.
"If we can get the Busy Bee. I've had an eye on that chap Dillworthy, for some time."
"I am much relieved," said Trafford, rising. His face was beaming; there was once more harmony between his expression and the aggressive, unbending cut of his hair and whiskers.
Atwater looked at him sharply. "You've seen Armstrong," he jerked out.
Trafford hesitated. "I thought," he said apologetically, "it would be best to have a general talk with Armstrong first—just to sound him."
"I understand." Atwater laughed sarcastically. "And may I ask, if it wasn't the news of the upset in the O.A.D., what was it that set you to running about so excitedly?"