Neither man spoke for a moment, until suddenly Dorns reached out, violently struck Armstrong's knee, and looked the startled Armstrong in the eye.
"Wake up!" he said. "You're at the breakin' point; to-day is either the start or the finish for you, me lad. I can see it in your eye. There's just so much any man can stand, and you're at the end of your rope. Buck up, now! Don't play Macgowan's game for him; he's been tryin' all the while to wear you down, blast his soul! I know him. He figures that if he can devil you just so long, you'll go smash at last. And he's right—you will. But, me lad, hang on a bit longer. Don't play his game for him."
Armstrong nodded soberly. This thought about Macgowan was new to him; he admitted its truth without demur.
"You're right. I suppose I'm pretty close to the edge. Well, thanks for the advice! I'll hang on."
Before the statehouse, Dorns left the taxicab.
"Don't come with me, now. Come right after me. Where's his office?"
"With that of the attorney general."
"All right. Loaf along after me."
Dorns swung up the steps, entered the building, with Armstrong in his wake. He went direct to Windsor's office and sent his card in to Windsor. A moment later, Windsor himself appeared with outstretched hand and welcoming smile.
"Mr. Dorns? I'm very glad to meet you. This is an unexpected honor—"