flushing and drawing himself erect.
‚ÄúThere, there, Colonel Cresswell, don‚Äôt misunderstand me. I‚Äôm a plain man. I‚Äôm playing a big game‚ÅÝ‚Äîa tremendous one. I need you, and I know you need me. I find out about you, and my sources of knowledge are wide and unerring. But the knowledge is safe, sir; it‚Äôs buried. Last year when you people curtailed cotton acreage and warehoused a big chunk of the crop you gave the mill men the scare of their lives. We had a hasty conference and the result was that the bottom fell out of your credit.‚Äù
Colonel Cresswell grew pale. There was a disquieting, relentless element in this unimpassioned man’s tone.
‚ÄúYou failed,‚Äù pursued John Taylor, ‚Äúbecause you couldn‚Äôt get the banks and the big merchants behind you. We‚Äôve got ‚Äôem behind us‚ÅÝ‚Äîwith big chunks of stock and a signed ironclad agreement. You can wheel the planters into line‚ÅÝ‚Äîwill you do it?‚Äù John Taylor bent forward tense but cool and steel-like. Harry Cresswell laid his hand on his father‚Äôs arm and said quietly:
“And where do we come in?”
“That’s business,” affirmed John Taylor. “You and two hundred and fifty of the biggest planters come in on the ground-floor of the two-billion-dollar All-Cotton combine. It can easily mean two million to you in five years.”
“And the other planters?”
“They come in for high-priced cotton until we get our grip.”
“And then?”
The quiet question