“That is a matter for my clerks, not for me,” he said curtly. “I was told your business was to my advantage. I have nothing to do with tickets.”
“One minute,” said Talbot. “There are between two and three hundred men in this town each one of whom bought a ticket from your company in New York in the expectation, if not under the understanding, that they were to get through passage immediately.”
“No such thing was expected or guaranteed,” interposed Brown abruptly.
“Not guaranteed, nor expected by you–by us, yes.”
“I cannot argue that matter. I have no further time for you. Good-day.” And Brown once more reached his hand toward his bell.
“Suppose,” said Talbot softly, leaning forward. “I should put it into the heads of those three hundred men that they ought to get their passage money back?”
Brown’s hand stopped in midair.
“They are large, violent, armed men; and they are far from pure home influences,” went on Talbot mockingly. “Here’s a sample of them,” said he indicating my huge frame. “And there are a thousand or so more, not directly interested but dying for excitement.”
“Are you trying to intimidate me, sir?” demanded Brown.