“You can stop them in the morning. I ain't the heart to; but the government's soured on the whole scheme. It's infernal experts say the gun's no good!” he brought down his fist with a mighty thud on the desk before him. “And its damned Patent Office has allowed me to go ahead with a mechanism that's an infringement on patents already granted; what in hell's name do you think of that!” he left his chair and lurched across the room toward Williams, who was open-mouthed with surprise and dismay. “I've had to spend money like water to find this out! I been buying meals and drinks for the small fry of hungry, thirsty harpies, and taken rebuffs from the big ones in office; me, that counted myself as good as the best! I've had smart lawyers who told me to go ahead, that I was all right, that my gun didn't conflict with no patents issued; the head man in the Patent Office told me the same, but day before yesterday a little twenty-dollar-a-week clerk showed me where I did conflict; and it was so plain that anybody but a government bat who ain't responsible to any one on God's earth for his mistakes, would have seen it with half an eye!”
“It's too bad!” said Williams, at a loss for words.
“Yes, it's too bad!” echoed Benson, with dull inadequacy, dropping back into his chair.
“Hadn't you better go home?” ventured Jim.
“What for?” snarled Benson, relapsing into ill-nature, and regretting his momentary frankness.
“Well, you can't stay here.”
“I want to dip into the books. I want to see where we stand, and figure out what I've dropped on this. I'll go home presently—and you keep your mouth shut until to-morrow.”
When Jim left him, he opened the books which the former had placed on his desk; he knew before he opened them just what he would find; yet he had a vague unreasoning hope that their figures might tell a different story. For half an hour he pored over them and then closed them with a bang.
“I'm a ruined man!” he muttered. “And Jake ain't much better off.”
He took up the lamp from his desk, and unfastening the door that led into the shops, disappeared among the machinery. For a little time his lamp moved to and fro; presently, however, it became stationary, and there was the clanking of a chain; this ceased, and he seemed to be moving some heavy object across the floor, dragging it; then suddenly the light was extinguished, the chain clanked again, violently this time—then there was absolute silence.