"I think such a step wouldn't be wise until after this new policy holders' committee has quieted down."
Fosdick laughed and waved his arm. "Those smelling committees! My boy, I'm used to them. Every big corporation has one or more of 'em on hand all the time. The little fellows are always getting jealous of the men who control, are always trying to scare them into paying larger interest—for that's what it amounts to. We men who run things practically borrow the public's money for use in our enterprises. You can call it stocks or bonds or mortgages or what not, but they're really lenders, though they think they're shareholders and expect bigger interest than mere money is worth. But we don't and won't give much above the market rate. We keep the rest of the profits—we're entitled to 'em. We'd play hob, wouldn't we, lying awake of nights thinking out schemes to enable John Jones and Tom Smith to earn thirty, forty, fifty per cent on their money?"
"But this committee—" There Armstrong halted, hesitating.
"Don't fret about it, young man. The chances are it'll quiet down of itself. If it doesn't, if it should have in it some sturdy beggar who persists, why, we'll hear from him sooner or later. When we get his figure, we can quiet him—put him on the pay roll or give him a whack at our appropriation for legal expenses."
"But this committee—" Armstrong stopped short—why should he warn Fosdick? Why go out of his way to be square with the man who had enslaved him? Had he not done his whole duty when he had refused to listen to the overtures of the new combination against Fosdick? Indeed, was it more than a mere suspicion that such a combination existed?
"This committee—what?"
"You feel perfectly safe about it?"
"It couldn't find out anything, if there was anything to find out. And if it did find out anything, what'd it do with it? No newspaper would publish it—our advertising department takes care of that. The State Government wouldn't notice it—our legal department takes care of them."
"Sometimes there's a slip-up. A few years ago——"
"Yes," interrupted Fosdick; "it's true, once in a while there's a big enough howl to frighten a few weak brothers. But not Josiah Fosdick, and not the O.A.D. We keep books better than we did before the big clean-up. A lot of good those clean-ups did! As if anybody could get up any scheme that would prevent the men with brains from running things as they damn please."