He put a hand upon his arm. “See here, old, man,” he said, “this is too bad, honestly. I understand how you feel, and it's a great credit to you; but you are living in the world, and you have got to be practical. You can't expect to take a railroad and run it as if it were an orphan asylum. You can't expect to do business, if you're going to have notions like that. It's really a shame, to give up a work like this for such a reason.”
Montague stiffened. “I assure you I haven't given up yet,” he replied grimly.
“But what are you going to do?” protested the other.
“I am going to fight,” said he.
“Fight?” echoed Curtiss. “But, man, you are perfectly helpless! Price and Ryder own the road, and they will do as they please with it.”
“You are one of the directors of the road,” said Montague. “And you know the situation. You know the pledges upon which the election of the new board was secured. Will you vote for Haskins as president?”
“My God, Montague!” protested the other. “What a thing to ask of me! You know perfectly well that I have no power in the road. All the stock I own, Price gave me, and what can I do? Why, my whole career would be ruined if I were to oppose him.”
“In other words,” said Montague, “you are a dummy. You are willing to sell your name and your character for a block of stock. You take a position of trust, and you betray it.”
The other's face hardened. “Oh, well,” he said, “if that's the way you put it—”
“That's not the way I put it!” said Montague. “That is simply the fact.”