"But we know nothing of your company's accounts, Mr. Fosdick," said she. "You will remember that, under our contracts, we have nothing whatever to do with the bills—that they go direct to your own people and are paid by them. We warned you it was a dangerous system, but you insisted on keeping to it. You said it was your long established way, that a change would upset your whole bookkeeping, that——"
"Yes—yes. I remember perfectly," interrupted Fosdick, all good humor.
"You can't hold us responsible. We don't even know what payments have been made."
"Precisely—precisely."
"It's a stupid system, permit me to say. It allows chances for no end of fraud on you—though I think the people we employed are honest and won't take advantage of it. And, if your auditors wanted to, they could charge the company twice or three times or several times what the building cost, and——"
"Exactly," interrupted Fosdick, an unpleasant sharpness in his voice. "Let's not waste time discussing that. Let me proceed. We wish no one to know what our buildings cost."
"But—you have to make reports—to your stockholders—policy holders rather."
"In a way—yes," admitted Fosdick. "But all the men who have the direction and control of large enterprises take a certain latitude. The average citizen is a picayunish fellow, mean about small sums. He wouldn't understand many of the expenditures necessary to the conduct of large affairs. He even prefers not to be irritated by knowing just where every dollar goes. He's satisfied with the results."
"But how does he know the results shown him are the real results? Why, under that system, figures might be juggled to cheat him out of nearly all the profits."
"The public is satisfied to get a reasonable return for the money it invests—and we always guarantee that," replied Fosdick grandly.