“Yes.”
The lawyer looked at his watch.
“The meeting is at twelve-thirty. H'm. You'll have to hold them for half an hour—maybe an hour.”
“Make it half an hour,” growled Doddridge Knapp. “Just remember that time is worth a thousand dollars a second till that injunction is served.”
He went out without another word, and there was a commotion of clerks as we left.
“How's your nerve, Wilton?” inquired the King of the Street calmly. “Are you ready for some hot work?”
“Quite ready.”
“Have you a revolver about you?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. I don't want you to kill any one, but it may come in handy as an evidence of your good intentions.”