"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.
Through all the images of the destruction and suffering which
Bates's words brought up before him, his thoughts flew back to a
pale and sad-faced little woman, sitting alone in an apartment up
on the Riverside. It was to her that it all came back; it was for
her that this terrible drama was being enacted. Montague could
picture the grim, hawk-faced old man, sitting at the head of the
council board, and laying down the law to the masters of the
Metropolis. And this man's thoughts, too, went back to Lucy--his
and Montague's alone, of all those who took part in the struggle!
"Waterman protect Prentice," spelled Rodney. "Insist turn out Ryder.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282