Smithers eyed him steadfastly. “You see I know you,” said he, after a time.
Philips cast on him an imploring look.
“The fact that I know your name,” continued Smithers, “shows also that I must know something of your history. Do not forget that!”
“My—my history?” faltered Philips.
“Yes, your history. I know it all, wretched man! I knew your father whom you ruined, and whose heart you broke.”
Philips said not a word, but again turned an imploring face to this man.
“I have brought you here to let you know that there is one who holds you in his power, and that one is myself. You think Potts or Clark have you at their mercy. Not so. I alone hold your fate in my hands. They dare not do any thing against you for fear of their own necks.”
{Illustration: “AT THE SOUND OF THIS NAME PHILIPS STARTED FROM HIS CHAIR, AND STOOD ON HIS FEET TREMBLING."}
Philips looked up now in wonder, which was greater than his fear.
“Why,” he faltered, “you are Potts’s friend. You got him to start the bank, and you have advanced him money.”