"But—did you say that Mac is scared?"
Wren nodded, miserably. "He told me so. That's what got me going. If Mac says we're up against it, then we are! You know it, too. Mac says that Findlater must have made all his plans a long time ahead, to take advantage of your absence right now, and that he wouldn't have started this thing unless he had the cards up his sleeve to finish it. I tell you, Mac is all up in the air! By this time a fraud order may be out against us, and if that's the case, Findlater can get us all indicted in no time!"
Armstrong glanced at his watch. It was eleven thirty. He looked up, regarded Jimmy Wren with a slight smile, and motioned toward the food.
"Eat, Jimmy; don't say another word, but listen hard. There's a train north at twelve five, connecting at Terre Haute with the Pennsylvania limited for New York. You're going to be back in New York to-morrow. I hate to make you travel on Christmas Day, but it's got to be done. Eat, now, and listen."
Indescribably impressed by Armstrong's manner, dominated by this cool refusal to find his news very terrifying, Wren obeyed the order. Dorothy sat in silence, her gaze fastened upon her husband.
Armstrong went on speaking, with that same calm deliberation which acted upon Jimmy Wren like a settling acid that reduced all his chaotic panic to order.
"There's nothing to be worried over, Jimmy. Stop and think. You'll realize that I have no secrets; the business of the company is entirely open, and the postal inspector is welcome to pry until Judgment Day. The farther he goes, the more convinced he'll be that we're all right.
"The stock has not been misrepresented by our men. Anybody can go out and find some stockholders who can be made to think that they've been deceived and robbed. Findlater is a fool to start anything of this sort; he's settled his own hash, that's all. Don't worry about his having any cards up his sleeve. He has nothing, unless it's more fraud. You go back and tell Lawrence Macgowan to keep his head."
Wren stared. "Aren't you coming?"
"Later." Armstrong smiled. He perceived that his own confidence and quiet certitude had already worked wonders in Wren's heart. "You go back and call a meeting of the directors of Consolidated Securities for Wednesday at eleven. Give no reason and tell no one that you've seen me—"