Tooker quickly abstracted a paper from a sheaf and handed it to Gallatin.
“Read for yourself.”
The sneer on Loring’s lips faded, and his eyes opened wider as he read. It was not a copy, but the contract itself.
“I have also a volume of evidence about the empty cars which verifies my statement. Would you care to look over it?”
“No. Go on,” growled Loring.
“Gentlemen,” Gallatin went on, enunciating his words with great distinctness. “This was discrimination—of a kind which at this time is not popular with the Government of the United States.”
“But if you’ll permit me, Mr. Gallatin,” Leuppold’s suave voice broke in, “what has this to do with the Sanborn injunction suit? And how can my client be held in any way responsible for the action of the Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad Company for its failure to fulfill its contracts to the Sanborn Company?”
Gallatin raised a protesting hand.
“I’m coming to that, Mr. Leuppold. In a moment, sir. The conditions I have already mentioned have forced the Sanborn Company practically to shut down. Coal is being mined and a few cars a day are shipped, but, as you gentlemen are well aware, dividends have been passed for two years and the value of the stock has depreciated. This much for the conditions which have caused that depreciation. The Pequot Coal Company, taking advantage of the low market value of the shares, has made an offer for the property—an offer, gentlemen, which as you both know, represents not one-twentieth of the Sanborn Company’s holdings.”