"You mean you will crush them financially?" suggested the second speaker.
"Body and soul!"
"Do you mean to say that you would crush a human being—perhaps drive him to do desperate things—merely to gratify your love of money and power? Is that what you mean, Nat?"
"That is partly my meaning. Yes, I want power. Already they call me the 'Young Napoleon of Finance,' but that is not enough. Those men must be driven to the wall, for in crushing them I shall be increasing my own power as well as taking theirs from them. I'd crush them just the same if I knew it to be my last conscious act on earth."
Barbara Thurston gazed into the darkness wide-eyed. She knew she was listening to the resolve of a desperate man, though she had not the slightest idea what might be his plans for accomplishing his purpose.
"Why do you hate them so?" questioned the second voice. "What have they ever done to you?"
The first speaker paused a few seconds before replying, then in a voice tense with suppressed emotion he answered slowly:
"Hate them? That isn't exactly the word, but it will answer. I hate —— —— because he turned me out when I was making my start. Turned me out into the street, Jim. Do you understand? Turned me out without a dollar in my pocket when I was trying to make something of myself. I hate the other man because he is working with him. They are pulling together and they must go down together. Let them down me if they can. I'll make beggars of both of them!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Barbara Thurston in a tone that plainly must have reached the two men.
The terrible threat had struck her almost with the effect of a blow. A name had been mentioned that stirred her to instant alertness, a name almost as familiar to the girl as her own.