Armstrong's curiosity was slightly stirred, no more.
"Let him go as far as he likes. I've nothing to hide. He can come around here and go through the books if he likes."
Todrank uttered a disgusted oath.
"Damn it, that's just what he won't do! That's why I'm trying to warn you! He isn't going, either—he's gone! He appears to have a hatful of the most damning evidence against you. I don't know what it is, but if Tom Windsor thinks you're a crook—then look out. He's stubborn as the devil. I believe that Macgowan is in it somewhere, although Windsor laughed at the idea. I gave him the inside stuff on your fight, and he merely showed his teeth.
"You wake up, now!" went on the banker earnestly. "This is serious. I gathered that the license to market the stock was gained under false pretenses—"
Armstrong was stirred at last. "That was arranged by the former company. I only took over the issue and marketed it."
"Well, there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere. Windsor thinks you're the nigger; I'm suspecting Macgowan of some hidden stuff. This is no fake, now; you can't afford to let it go through. If Windsor once gets action in the courts, he'll shove till hell freezes over, because he's absolutely honest. He's a fanatic in this respect, the most dangerous sort! He's got the goods, or he'd never talk as he did to me."
"Why, confound it," burst out Armstrong, roused at last, "it's rankly impossible that he could have anything on me!"
"You fool, don't you know Macgowan yet?" roared the banker angrily. "Listen here! Windsor mentioned another thing. He's been offered a ten-thousand-dollar job here in town, with the firm of Milligan, Milligan, Hoyt & Brainard; a corporation law firm, fair to middling but nothing extra. The opening takes effect in about four months; it came to him through Western sources entirely. Personally, I smell Macgowan in the whole game. So far as I know, though, that firm has no connection with Mac, so it's a wild guess."
"Where can I get in touch with Windsor?" said Armstrong.