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 ours. The stockholders needed you, and we forced them to sell their stock to you to give you control. Now you need us!"

"But I paid for theirs!"

"Yes, and we pay for ours by using our reputation for conservatism to save your reckless skin for you, young man; that's what we do," retorted Silas Haley acrimoniously, and turning, gazed at S. R. Blodgett and T. O. Tompkins for looks of confirmation.

They gave them and were silent, watching, waiting!

For the time being, George felt fascinated by his own helplessness. He remembered his sensations in the other transaction when he saw this same mysterious organization of financial power operating with machine-like precision and machine-like indifference to make him rich, and now he saw this identical power operating to strip him—to tie him hand and foot to those who would henceforth be the real power over Judson-Morris and over him.

"I'll never do it, gentlemen!" he declared, but yet with self-control and low-toned emphasis that showed how thoroughly he meant what he said. Then he rose as if to go.

"Better sleep on it, George," Blodgett observed with a resumption of his old, paternal air. "You can see me at ten in the morning, if you decide you want to. I'll hold Haley and