The tongue went
dry in his mouth. He began to swallow his Adam's apple.
"I'm not well to-day," he said, almost in a whisper.
"Let's look at this thing from all sides," went on Clay cheerfully.
"If we decide by a majority of the voting stock--and I'm carryin'
enough proxies so that I've got control--that you'd ought to have a
whalin', why, o' course, there's nothin' to it but get to business and
make a thorough job."
"Maybe I didn't do right about Maddock's."
"No mebbe about that. You acted like a yellow hound."
"I'm sorry. I apologize."
"I don't reckon I can use apologies. I might make a bargain with you."
"I'll be glad to make any reasonable bargain."
"How'd this do? I'll vote my stock and proxies in the Bromfield
Punishment Company, Limited, against the whalin', and you vote yore
stock and proxies in the Bird Cage Company to return the present board
and directorate."
"That's coercion."
"Well, so it is."
"The law--"
"Did you go hire a lawyer for an opinion before you paid Durand to do
me up?"
"You've got no right to hold me a prisoner here to help Whitford."
"All right, I won't. I'll finish my business with you and when I'm
through, you can go to the annual meetin'--if you feel up to travelin'
that far."
"I'll give you a thousand dollars to let me alone."
"That'd be a thousand and fifty you had given me, wouldn't it?"
returned Lindsay gayly.
Tears of vexation stood in Bromfield's eyes. "All right.
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