"Pshaw! you're talking of things you know nothing about. I haven't injured your company—you've done it yourselves. If you don't like it, being outside the Conference, why in the devil don't you go back? I'll propose the Guardian for membership, myself, and you'll be reinstated within two weeks. I haven't done anything that any business man wouldn't have done. Some agents have decided that they'd rather represent the Salamander than the Guardian; in my opinion that's only the exercise of good judgment. If people prefer to give risks to us rather than you, they've a right to exercise the privilege of their choice. My feeling toward the Guardian is exactly what it has always been. If Mr. Wintermuth thinks he's been unfairly treated or that he has a grievance against me, let him come to me with it himself, and I will be glad to show him that he is wrong. But I don't care to go into the matter any further with any one else."
"That is your answer, then?" Smith asked.
"Yes—it is," the other responded shortly.
Smith turned to the door.
"Sure you've nothing further to add?" he asked, his hand on the knob.
"Nothing whatever," said the President of the Salamander, and he turned back to his desk.
"I'm afraid we'll have to fight," Smith reported to his chief. "O'Connor says," he added, with legitimate malice, "that if you imagine you have a grievance and will come to the office of the Salamander, he will graciously consent to give you a hearing."
Mr. Wintermuth looked up, and a flash of his pristine shrewdness gleamed in his eye.
"You're saying that—putting it that way to get me into a controversy with the Salamander people, Richard," he said.
"Yes," admitted Smith, honestly; "but I wouldn't do it if I didn't believe that eventually we'll have to fight that man on his own ground, and beat him, too, before he'll leave us alone to conduct our business."