"Why didn't you report them, if you knew they were fraudulent?" shot out Windsor, pouncing on this apparent admission of guilt. "Why cover them up?"
"It was no business of mine." Armstrong faced him, realized that the crucial fight was on. "I had nothing to do with the statements filed by Deming's directors. So far as I know, they were made out by the treasurer, Williams, and he was the only one who knew them to be false, unless the other directors were in on the deal with him."'
Windsor leaned back. "Going to stick to that story?"
"You bet! It's the truth," snapped Armstrong. "That devil Macgowan is back of this whole thing, just as he's behind that offer to you."
Windsor's eyes narrowed uneasily, but he shook his head.
"I can't agree with you. I'll look into that New York job; and I'll say that it was white of you to give me warning about it. But there's no tracing these charges back to Macgowan."
"He's behind it, none the less. He knew about those fraudulent statements."
Windsor quietly dissented. "Armstrong, I've gone through things carefully, looking for just such a connection; I was warned of the possibility in New York. I was in Evansville yesterday and met Dorothy on the street; she suggested the same idea to me—that Macgowan had framed you. I'm sorry for her, cursed sorry! But the facts are open. You're the boss in this thing, and there's enough contributory evidence to put you behind the bars."
"I don't doubt it; Macgowan seems to have done this job up brown!" Armstrong leaned forward earnestly. From the look on Dorns' face, he knew that he was at a critical point. "Now, Windsor, I insisted on seeing you because I knew you were honestly convinced. You believe I'm a crook, don't you?"
"Absolutely," said Windsor calmly.