To himself, staring at the young man, he said: "I'm going to play this
game out with two-spots, and here's one ready for the draw!"
"I'll see you in Philadelphia, Mr. Mayo," he continued, aloud. "I am
exactly what I say I am. Captain Wass, you've got something coming to
you. Mr. Mayo, you've got something coming to you, also--and it's
good!" His assertiveness was compelling, and even the captain displayed
symptoms of being impressed. "It isn't at all necessary that my agent
make this trip with you, Captain Wass. Perhaps I had no distinct right
to bring him here. But I am a hustling sort of a business man and I want
to get at matters in short order. However, I ask no favors. Come on,
Boyne!"
"We'll sign him on as steward to cover the law," proffered the captain,
as terse in consent as he was in refusal.
"Very well," agreed Fogg. "You've got an able first mate, sir." He
flipped his watch out. "I've got a train to make, gentlemen. Good day!"
He took Boyne by the arm and led him to the ladder from the bridge.
"Son," said he, "you dig into that Mayo chap till you know him up and
down and through and through. I'm going to use him. And you keep your
mouth shut about yourself." He backed down the ladder, feeling his
way cautiously with his fat legs, trotted to the waiting cab, and was
whirled away.
At high noon the next day Fletcher Fogg marched into the general
offices of the Vose line in company with ten solid-looking citizens.
Imperturbable and smiling, he allowed President Vose to shriek anathema
and to wave the certified copy of the record of the annual meeting under
the snub Fogg nose.
"What you say doesn't change the situation in the least," affirmed Mr.
Fogg. "You'll find the actual records of the meeting deposited in the
usual place in the state of your incorporation. If you think these
new directors are not lawfully and duly elected, you can apply to the
courts."
"You confounded thief, it's likely to take a year to get a decision.
This is damnable. It's piracy. You know what courts are!"
"Poke up your courts, then. It isn't my fault if they're slow."
The new directors filed into the board-room and with great celerity
proceeded to elect Fletcher Fogg to be president and general manager of
the Vose line.
"What are you going to do?" pleaded the deposed executive head. "My
money is in here--my whole life is in it--my pride--my intention to see
that the public gets a square deal. You infernal rogue, what are you
going to do with my property?"