This unexpected retort brought a new and frowning attention to the eyes of his auditors. He went on quickly.
"Oh, I've given up hope of a quick fight! We'll not down Macgowan in a hurry. Judge, your thousand shares of common are tied up in that voting trust, along with mine; Macgowan is going to fight to keep that voting trust from being dissolved a few days before the meeting, I'm afraid. We must take no chances. I have some stock outside the voting trust. We must campaign for votes and leave no effort unexpended. We have something definite to go on, now. How much of that thirty-five thousand was voted for back salaries, Dorns?"
The detective shook his head. "No details yet. Get 'em in a day or two."
"No matter," put in Mansfield, a gleam in his eye. "Back salary in any amount is illegal."
"Exactly," went on Armstrong. "That's my scheme, gentlemen—publicity! We have nothing to conceal; they have everything. I have written agreements from these men to act without salary for three years, and the time isn't up by a long shot. We must count largely upon Mr. Dorns to supply evidence from the books of Consolidated, as we go along, in regard to what Macgowan does; but we can obtain information without much trouble.
"I can prophesy one thing that'll be done soon. Findlater has a friend with some scheme for refining turpentine, which I rejected as a wild dream. The new directorate will finance this scheme, mark me! We shan't lack ammunition. The main thing is to reach every investor quickly, giving him the truth about the new management and what can be expected of it."
There was a moment of silence. Judge Holcomb fingered his gray beard frowningly. Mansfield was gazing reflectively at the ceiling. Dorns chewed hard on a cigar. The silence was at length broken by Holcomb.
"By gad, Armstrong, that plan is excellent! You may count on me to the limit. Whom else shall we call in to form this Protective Association?"
"Me," said Dorns. The others looked at him.
"You?" said Armstrong. "But you're not an investor—"