The fact was that his mind was made up and his plan of campaign chosen, and he was now bending all his thought and energies upon the manner and details of attack. There was no time to lose, and the iron would never be hotter than now. Accordingly, when he had disposed of the accumulation of morning mail at his desk, he walked thoughtfully over to President Wintermuth's office. In response to that gentleman's invitation he entered and seated himself near the desk, holding in his hand a number of papers pinned together. From his expression it would have seemed that disquieting reflections occupied his mind.
"What's the matter? Loss?" inquired his chief, taking the cue O'Connor had proffered.
"No," said the Vice-President, slowly. He glanced down at the papers that he held. "Mr. Wintermuth," he said, "what is your opinion of—or no, let me put it another way: how deeply are we committed to the Eastern Conference?"
"What do you mean—how deeply are we committed?"
"Just that. We were among the original subscribers to the Eastern Conference agreement, as you are aware. What I want to know is whether we are bound to a more rigid observance of its rules than other companies that are members of it."
"We are not, sir," returned the President. "Of course we are not. Why do you ask?"
"Well, sir, I hardly like to say so, but for a long time I have been growing to feel that our strict adherence to our obligations was affecting our business unfavorably at some points. In other words, I have been growing more and more sure that we are too honest—comparatively."
"How is that? How is that?" said Mr. Wintermuth, sharply.
"Perhaps I should say that some of our associates in the Conference are not quite honest enough, at least in the construction they put upon their pledges."
"You will have to be more specific, sir," returned the President, somewhat sternly.