"How the hell do we know your company will do all this? Findlater is president of it, not you. How do we know Consolidated Securities will back you up?"
For the first time, the cold poise of Armstrong's features was broken. The faintest shadow of a smile curved his lips.
"Because," he answered, "I am Consolidated Securities."
A chuckle from Macgowan's corner gave this statement emphatic endorsement. That chuckle reached every man present. It dismayed them afresh, startled them, struck a chill into their very souls. Their faces contracted in furious anger, only to become impotent and vacant again. They were powerless to help themselves, to resent insults. Without Armstrong's help, they faced ruin.
Armstrong glanced at his watch.
"Speak up, please," he said. "I want a decision at once. Yes or no?"
"You can't market that stock!" broke out Ried Williams, a desperate gleam in his dark and crafty eyes. "Several companies have turned it down!"
"I'm not asking you to talk, but to vote," said Armstrong coldly. "If I contract to market that stock, it'll be done. Yes or no, Mr. Williams?"
"Yes," said Williams, speaking like a man of wood.
"And you, Mr. Slosson?"