Beneath it was this dispatch:
“New Damascus, June 11.—The Damascus mill closed down last night in all departments for the first time in its history. There is no explanation. Enoch Gib is understood to be ill.”
John knew what this meant. The end had come. Having verified the news by telegraph he went to Slaymaker and told him for the first time enough of the history of New Damascus and its people to illuminate what had been going on.
“Why do you tell me this now?” Slaymaker asked.
“Isn’t it a great relief?” said John. “The ghastly game that’s nearly ruined us is at an end.”
“There’s some other reason,” Slaymaker insisted.
“You have lost a lot of money with me in American Steel,” John said. “Now of course it will all come back. Still, you might be able to turn this information to special advantage. There are two or three idle rail mills that could be picked up for nothing.”
Slaymaker took time to reflect.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll help.”
John shook his head.