"On the evidence of two men whom I threw out of Food Products because they had wrecked that company. Good. Suppose we call on Williams and Slosson. Let me talk to 'em in your presence. If they stick to their lies, I'm through. Let the matter come up in court and be fought out. If not—it's up to you."
Windsor removed his cigar and surveyed Armstrong with an indolent air which masked his keen eagerness.
"Either you're the nerviest devil I've ever met or—well, I'll take you up! Wait till I get copies of those affidavits. Back in a minute."
He sprang to his feet and went into the adjoining office.
Armstrong waited. Inwardly, his thoughts had been wrenched aside by Windsor's mention of Evansville, of Dorothy; a fierce, fighting exultation swept through him. So she had appealed to Windsor—she had cared enough to do this thing!
"By gad, that means a lot!" he muttered. "A lot! She's had time to think it over, and there's still hope—"
The voice of Windsor came from the next room, addressing his stenographer.
"If anything important comes up, call me at the office of Williams & Slosson, across from the Board of Trade—you know where it is."
Windsor appeared. "All right," he said. "Let's go!"