“Where?”
The clerk pointed to the office door.
Fitz’s face straightened out and grew suddenly grave, but he stepped briskly into his sanctum and faced his enemy.
“Well, what is it, Mr. Klutchem?”
Before his visitor opened his mouth, Fitz saw that the fight was all out of the Head Centre of Consolidated Smelting. A nervous, conciliatory smile started from the line of Klutchem’s mouth, wrinkled the flesh of his face as far as his cheeks, and died out again.
“We got hit pretty bad yesterday, Fitzpatrick, and I thought we might as well talk it over and see if we couldn’t straighten out the market.”
“Then it isn’t about Colonel Carter?” said Fitz coldly.
He had all the Consolidated he wanted and didn’t see where Klutchem could be of the slightest use in straightening out anything.
“I’ll attend to him later,” replied Klutchem, and a curious expression overspread his face. “You heard about it, then?”
“Heard about it! I bailed him out. If you wanted to lock anybody up why didn’t you get after some one who knew the ropes, not a man like the Colonel who never had a dishonest thought in his head and who is as tender-hearted as a child.”