"Is that so, huh?" Dorns held out his cigar and grinned. "I bought me five hundred shares of Consolidated on Saturday! I know a good thing when I see it, or when somebody hits me over the head like you did last Wednesday. Yep, you count me in, see?"
"I suggest," said Mansfield in his quiet way, "that Mr. Armstrong and Judge Holcomb take up this association matter between them. I shall at once apply for the removal of Findlater and Macgowan, and shall confer with you to-morrow, Mr. Armstrong, regarding the extortion charge. Judge, an excellent man to serve on your committee would be Frederic Bruton, the president of Baliol University—a man of the very highest character and reputation, well known through the East, and if he could be induced to serve—"
"He can," put in Armstrong. "He was one of my professors at college. I know him well, and shall run up to Baliol the end of the week and see him."
"In that case, sir, you may make such use of my name as you deem proper,"' said Mansfield unexpectedly.
Armstrong looked at these men—the burly detective, the attorney, the retired financier and judge—and found himself all at once wordless. He remembered the wreck he had been only a few days previously; yet now these men were with him, supporting him not only with their effort and money, but with their names and reputations.
"Gentlemen," he said abruptly, "I—I don't know how to tell you how I appreciate your confidence in me—"
He broke off abruptly as he had begun.
"Don't mention it, Armstrong—our confidence is in you because you stand for something," said Judge Holcomb. He added, a smile twisting at his lips: "I don't mind saying, too, that Macgowan's law firm handed me a mean jolt a year or two ago, and I haven't forgotten it by a good deal! Maybe I'm not altogether altruistic in this affair."
"Oh, hell!" Dorns rose. "Macgowan's a crook and we know it. So long, gentlemen! See you again, Armstrong."
The conference had ended. The fight had begun.