“Nothing. Nothing, of course—but——”
“Well, see him!”
Then Mr. Constable gaining confidence from his Hebrew partner’s shrewd face would answer decisively:
“Very well, I will see him.”
But in his own private office the President would be apt to run his fingers along the inside of his collar, as though it choked him, muttering, “Damn this business!” before he pushed his bell and ordered in his visitor.
Mr. Constable was subjected to another constant annoyance. Several of the daily papers invariably coupled his name with some reference to the Horton case. A paragraph announcing his election to a trusteeship would identify him as “the President of the Hydroid Fibre Co., who recently had a most unfortunate experience with a Notary Public now serving sentence in Sing Sing.” Or, if his name appeared in some list, the paragrapher would add: “Mr. Constable, it will be remembered, disposed of quite a serious charge in the Hydroid Fibre matter, some of the parties now being in Sing Sing.”
It was incessant, intolerable, and intangible.
But one evening, in an after-dinner chat, Mr. Glenning had a short, whispered conference about the matter with a city official, and the city official dropped a hint next day to his advertising agent which must have reached the city editors, for the “squibbing” stopped. However, when Mr. Constable resigned from the Presidency of the Hydroid Fibre Co., the paragraphers took occasion to revive the whole story.
Then, as though tired of being in the public eye, Mr. Constable began to resign his trusteeships one after another, until his partners took alarm and vigorously protested.