"Fool you?" sneered Ashton. "You're too easy! The Coville Company is only another name for Papa Leslie."
"Look here," warned Blake. "You're apt to learn soon that some lies aren't healthy."
"It's the truth," replied Ashton, giving back a little, but insistent on the facts. "It's a way he avoids responsibility. But he owns ninety-nine per cent of the stock. Griffith must have told you that. He knows all about it."
This obstinate insistence, despite the young fellow's evident fear, convinced Blake. He half raised his clenched fist.
"And I fell to it!" he muttered. "Let him bunco me into putting through that dam for him! Scheme to make me take his money!"
"You as good as put half a million into his pocket," jeered Ashton.
"What do I care about that?" rejoined Blake.
"It's that fifty thousand bonus. He'll be trying to force it on me."
Ashton thought he had misunderstood. "Don't fear he'll not pay up. He's good pay when you have it in black and white. There's still time to catch the train. You'll find your check waiting you at the offices of the company."
Blake did not reply. One of the dimensional figures on a blueprint of the south cantilever had caught his glance, and he had bent over to peer at it. A sudden stillness seemed to have fallen upon him.