“Object!” exclaimed Bates.  “Good Heavens, and with the public half crazy about monopolies, and the President making such a fight!  If it were known that the Steel Trust had gathered in its last big competitor, you can’t tell what the Government might do!”

“I see,” said Montague.  “And how long has this been?”

“Four years,” was the reply; “all they’re waiting for is some occasion like this, when they can put the Company in a hole, and pose as benefactors in taking it over.”

“I see,” said Montague, again.

“Listen,” said Bates, and leaned out of the window.  He could catch faintly the sounds of a deep voice in the consultation room.

“W-a-t-e-r-m-a-n,” spelled Rodney.

“I guess business has begun,” whispered Bates.

“Situation intolerable,” spelled Rodney.  “End wildcat banking.”

“That means end of opposition to me,” was the other’s comment.

“Duval assents,” continued Rodney.

The two in the window were on edge by this time.  It was tantalising to have to wait several minutes, and then get only such snatches.

“But they’ll get past the speech-making pretty soon,” whispered Bates; and indeed they did.

The next two words which the cord spelled out made Montague sit up and clutch the arms of his chair again.

“Gotham Trust!”

“Ah!” whispered Bates.  Montague made not a sound.

“Ryder misusing,” spelled the cord.

Bates seized his companion by the arm, and leaned close to him.  “By the Lord!” he whispered breathlessly, “I wonder if they’re going to smash the Gotham Trust!”

“Refuse clearing,” spelled Rodney; and Montague felt Bates’s hand trembling.  “They refuse to clear for Ryder!” he panted.

Montague was beyond all speech; he sat as if turned to stone.

“To-morrow morning,” spelled the cord.

Bates could hardly keep still for his excitement.

“Do you catch what that means?” he whispered.  “The Clearing-house is to throw out the Gotham Trust!”

“Why, they’ll wreck it!” panted the other.

“My God, my God, they’re mad!” cried Bates.  “Don’t they realise what they’ll do?  There’ll be a panic such as New York has never seen before!  It will bring down every bank in the city!  The Gotham Trust!  Think of it!—­the Gotham Trust!”

“Prentice objects,” came Rodney’s next message.

“Objects!” exclaimed Bates, striking his knee in repressed excitement.  “I should think he might object.  If the Gotham Trust goes down, the Trust Company of the Republic won’t live for twenty-four hours.”

“Afraid,” spelled the cord.  “Patterson angry.”

“Much he has to lose,” muttered Bates.

Montague started up and began to pace the room.  “Oh, this is horrible, horrible!” he exclaimed.