"The meaning?"
"Yes. Are you on our side or on theirs?"
"My dear Faxon," said Roger, "you have already told me how little I know about such things. How can you expect me to answer such a question as that? Mr. Good has my sister's confidence and mine. If he ran this article, I believe it to be a good article. And anyway, who the hell are you to come here asking me questions like that?" The young man's temper had suddenly ignited. His face paled and his lips became set in a thin straight line.
Faxon raised his hand. "Now don't get sore, Roger," he said more affably. "I simply want to come to an understanding with you, so we know where each other stands, that's all. Were these articles printed with your sanction or not?" he asked slowly, tapping on the desk with his pencil.
"I wasn't consulted," said Roger simply; "that's not my business."
"Well, damn it," roared Faxon, losing his temper, "it ought to be your business! Isn't it your business to prevent a lot of crack-brained idiots from making a fool out of you?"
"I don't see that they are."
"Well, everybody else sees it. Now look here, Roger. We'll overlook it this time because it wasn't done with your knowledge or consent and you naturally don't understand matters very clearly yet. But it can't happen again, you hear. We won't stand for it."
"And who is supposed to be talking?" asked Roger mildly.
"Who's talking? I'm talking! And I'm a vice-president of Corey & Company. That's who's talking."