His voice died out. Windsor swung from him. "Gentlemen, kindly remember those words. Mr. Armstrong, I withdraw all my previous words to you, and apologize for them. I'm going to the bottom of this thing—and I don't think the bottom's very deep now. Williams, here is your one and only chance: Do you wish to withdraw those affidavits in regard to how Armstrong handled Food Products stock, or not?"
"Yes," said Williams in a hollow voice. "Yes. They—we were mistaken about his part in things—"
"Very well," said Tom Windsor crisply. "Mr. Armstrong, I congratulate you. I'm going through with this thing whether you prosecute or not. Now, Williams, turn around to that desk and write out a statement for me."
Armstrong found Dorns pulling at his elbow. "Let me have a word with you outside, quick! Mr. Windsor, I'm glad to have met you; I want to catch a noon train for New York. Let me know if you want any testimony from me in this matter, and you'll get it."
Armstrong followed him outside and closed the door. Dorns turned and caught his hand in a hard, cordial grip that spoke more than words.
"We've done it, me lad—hurray! Talk quick, now. D'you want to prosecute Macgowan or will you make terms? Windsor is goin' after him anyhow, I take it."
"If we can chuck him and Findlater out of Consolidated, I'll make terms," said Armstrong promptly. "But we've no direct evidence on Macgowan yet—"
"Windsor's getting it now." Dorns grinned. "We'll take a leaf out o' Mac's own book, and arrest him anyhow. I'll get hold of Judge Holcomb to-morrow and we'll nab him for conspiracy. You see to it at this end that no warning is sent him. Trust me and Holcomb to arrange a settlement, will you?"
"Of course. But I'll want both him and Findlater out of the company."
"Listen!" Dorns tapped him on the breast. "When I get done with that crook to-morrow night, he'll be clean—clean! So long, and good luck. I got to rush. Where'll I wire you?"