If they thought to find in Lars Larssen a beaten man, they were greatly mistaken. He came in with his usual masterful stride, and his eyes met theirs surely and squarely.
"I've come to hear what's been fixed between you," he said, and took a seat at the table.
Matheson took up a paper from the bundle before him on the table, and replied with studied formality: "The applications for shares totalled £6,714,000 in round figures. Of these, all but £8200 were cancelled by telegram or letter on the morning of May 3rd."
"As a consequence of your advertisement in the newspaper?"
"Yes. The Board decided to proceed to allotment, and we have accordingly allotted the applications for 8200 shares. The remainder of the 5,000,000 ordinary shares will have to be taken up and paid for by yourself under the terms of your underwriting agreement."
"I expected that. I'm ready to carry out my bond."
"As you will see," continued Matheson with the same studied formality cloaking the irony of his words, "you gain control."
Larssen smiled tolerantly. "That's turned the trick right enough, but don't flatter yourself that you did it. If it hadn't been for a sheer accident that no man alive could foresee or prevent, I'd have won hands down. I haven't been beaten by you, and so I don't bear grudge. And I've no intention of bringing a libel action to gratify your longing for the limelight. I'll just sit tight and let the Hudson Bay scheme flatten out to nothing."
He flicked thumb and forefinger together contemptuously. "That Hudson Bay scheme was chicken-feed. I've bigger than that up my sleeve. What you've done won't put the stopper on me. Let me tell you, Matheson, that it will take a better man than you to down Lars Larssen."
When he left the board-room, all four Directors remained silent. They knew that he had spoken truth. Even in defeat Lars Larssen was a bigger man than any of the four.