alone with his secretary, who at my first words shot out of the room. He was bending over a stack of papers, and as I landed at his desk he looked up quickly, and in a surprised way asked:
"What does this mean, Lawson?"
No one ever enters Mr. Rogers' room without his permission.
"It means that I have just learned that you and Stillman have decided to break your solemn promise to me." I tried to control myself, but the seethe of rage almost choked me. "It means that you have decided to take more of that subscription money than the five millions we agreed upon, and that means hell."
Mr. Rogers stood up, his jaws set as in their last hold, and, recognizing the crisis, he met me, not with the fierce anger I half expected and hoped he would show, but with quiet earnestness.
"Stop just there, Lawson—remember you are in my office. Who gave you this tale?"
"Never mind. Is it true? Are you going to break your promise to me? Do you intend to allot the public more than five millions?"
He hesitated only a second. Just a second, but it seemed an age; then slowly and calmly: "Yes, it has been decided that considering the tremendous number and amounts of the subscription it will be best to give them more."
"How much more?" I shouted, for I was beside myself.
"Ten millions in all," he slowly answered.
"Who has decided?"
"Every one, Mr. Rockefeller, Stillman, all of us."