I held myself together, with closed hands and clinched teeth.
"Just that," he returned. "You are making millions out of this enterprise, and I consider this is one of the places where you earn them."
"Not if every one of the millions you mention were multiplied a thousand times, Mr. Rogers, do I say one word to the public to induce it to part with its money—not a word that will not hold you and Mr. Rockefeller, Stillman, and the City Bank to a full responsibility—not if, on the other hand, I become a pauper."
It was out. I know that the deadly earnestness I felt was in my voice, for though I spoke in a low tone I thought my head would burst until the last word was spoken. We looked at each other—glared is not the word to define that white-hot yet frozen, "another-step-and-I-shoot" look which of all expressions of which the human face is capable is most intense and dangerous. I did not flinch. I did not know what he would do, but I saw my words impressing on his mind the absolute conviction that for once he was face to face with a resolution no power of his could alter. Slowly his anger, his will, seemed to subside, but as they did I was aware intuitively that he had changed tactics and was coming at me from another direction. In an instant his whole being seemed to relax and he dropped into a chair with a sigh of relief as he said:
"All right, Lawson. You've thought it out, I see. You are making a bad mistake, but as your mind is made up, I can do the only thing left to do—call the whole business off for the time being."
I had not served as Mr. Rogers' pike-carrier in vain. Superb actor though he is, I saw his bluff, and quick as a hair-trigger called it.
"Is that your decision, Mr. Rogers?" I asked, almost before the last word was out of his mouth. I did not attempt to shade the "If-it-is-I'm-off" tone of my voice.