"I suppose I am forfeiting all which this family means to me by my seeming disloyalty to you, Mr. Gorham; but I honestly feel that I am more loyal than if I played the hypocrite. I see you carrying on the business of this corporation surrounded by men whose only thought is of themselves, who accept your judgment simply because it puts dollars into their pockets, who permit you to exercise your ideals only because they know that it means profit to them. Yet you have been consistent, you have been straightforward, you have lived up to the standards which you have taught me to expect. But can't you see, Mr. Gorham"--the boy held out both arms supplicatingly--"can't you see that there isn't a single man in that great organization who feels as you do? Can't you see that even Senator Kenmore is thinking only of himself?"

"You forget Mr. Covington and--yourself," Gorham answered.

"I don't cut any ice, one way or the other," Allen protested, "but I haven't forgotten Mr. Covington. I tell you, Mr. Gorham--forgive me, Alice--Mr. Covington is the worst of all. He's the one who has influenced the committee to take their stand against you; he's helping them plan things out now so as to throw you down, hoping to become president himself; he's trying to marry Alice so that you can't expose him when you begin to unravel his double cross. I tell you, he's the slickest Johnnie outside of State's Prison."

"Of course you have unquestionable proof to support all this, Allen?"

Gorham demanded, sternly.

"No, I haven't, and I shouldn't speak; but I know I'm right," was the dogged reply.

"Do you realize what it means to make such unsubstantiated statements?"

"But I have everything except the actual proofs," he pleaded.

"What else can you have?"

"I know how he's been investing Alice's money for her, for instance."

"What of that; it was done with my consent."

"With your consent?" Allen repeated, bewildered. "Then you knew--with your principles--"

Gorham was thoroughly angry now, but he delayed replying until he could choose his words in the presence of his wife and daughter.

"I have borne with this long enough," he interrupted. "I have been patient with you because I sympathized with your disappointment regarding Alice--but my patience is at an end. Your jealousy has so warped your sense of right and wrong that you are willing to attack the reputation of a man of honor and integrity, trying to injure him in the eyes of those who respect him. I warned you against this, and you have failed to heed my warning. Much as I regret it, on many accounts, there is no alternative--your usefulness to the Companies is at an end."

Allen rose and looked searchingly into Gorham's face. He could read in the lines which he saw there a real suffering which touched him deeply.

No man, not even his father, had come so closely into his life as Mr.

Gorham, and the boy's heart was wrung with pain that he should be the cause of adding to his burdens. But his gaze into those expressive eyes seemed to bewilder him still further, for he pa.s.sed his hand in a dazed manner across his forehead.

"You must be right," he said at length. "I should have known that I'd be no good in business. Why, I haven't even brains enough to comprehend. I know that you, sir, are the soul of honor, and yet you tell me that you knew of that investment. I'm a failure--I'm just no good, that's all.

I'll go back to Pittsburgh and tell the pater what a chance you gave me, and what a mess I made of it. Then I'll ask him to let me strip down as his other workmen do, and go into the furnaces where I belong.

Good-night and--good-bye."

As the conversation developed into so serious a situation, Alice and Eleanor watched the two men, astonished at the nature of the disagreement, and filled with apprehension. Mrs. Gorham had grown more fond of the boy than she realized until this moment, and she actually suffered for him. Alice was running the gamut of her emotions, her sensations changing every moment, affected by each sentence which she heard torn from the very soul of each speaker. As Allen rose after his final acceptance of his dismissal, she rose with him, a curious mixture of uncertainty and lack of understanding combining in her expression.

"I don't believe you do know about that stock, daddy," she said, quietly. "Before Allen goes perhaps--"

"I know all about it, Alice," her father replied, impatiently. "Allen has no right to meddle in my personal affairs, and I resent it. Don't interfere, little girl--leave this to me."

The color left her face, and she seemed to grow to mature years in the instant. Allen started to leave, but was held spellbound by the force exercised by the quiet, firm dignity which became at once the dominating factor.

"You are wrong, daddy," she said, with a new note in her voice which all recognized instinctively. "For the first time in my life, I tell you, you are wrong."

"Leave this to me, Alice," Gorham repeated, sternly, but the girl did not heed him.

"Since I have been sitting here I have learned a lot, and I know that Allen is right. There are things which I have kept from you, and now I know that I should have told you all about them. Now I know that the advice I received was wrong--and it is all reacting upon Allen and upon you."

"Is there no way--" Gorham began, thoroughly exasperated.

"Be patient, Robert," begged Eleanor.

"Don't, Alice," Allen protested; "it's mighty white of you, but it only makes matters worse. I'm going now--"

"Not until I tell you that I've been unfair to you too," she cried.

"I've made fun of you and been horrid to you, but I believe I've loved you all the time."

"Alice!" the boy exclaimed.

"You are forgetting your duty to Mr. Covington, as you have already forgotten your duty to me," her father expostulated, severely.

"She doesn't mean it, Mr. Gorham--please don't blame her; it's all my fault."

"I do mean it, Allen. I haven't known my own heart till now."

"It's pity for me--it isn't love," the boy replied, bitterly. "I'm a failure and you're sorry for me. I wanted you when I thought I could make good. Now that I know I can't, it's different. But I'll never forget it, Alice, never. Don't blame her, Mr. Gorham. Good-bye."

He rushed out, not trusting himself to speak further, and a moment later those left behind heard the door close quietly as he went out into the darkness.

XXVI

The Executive Committee were ready to make their first move; and at a meeting at which Gorham was not present, they had voted to ask the president to call a special meeting of the Board of Directors. The call for the meeting was supplemented by a letter to the Directors, signed by each member of the committee, setting forth that the business to be considered included the rescinding of a resolution pa.s.sed at a previous meeting, placing plenipotentiary powers in the hands of the president, and also to consider the desirability of so dividing his present duties that the responsibilities might rest on several shoulders instead of upon his alone. It further recited that various criticisms of the president would be considered at that time,--specifically, that Mr.

Gorham was using the Consolidated Companies for his own private ends; that he prevented his a.s.sociates from being recognized in their full relation to the work, the credit for which he himself monopolized; that he was devoting a large part of his time at the expense of the Companies in straightening out certain domestic complications, as a result of which the corporation was losing ground, and was even being threatened by adverse legislation in Washington, against which it was his duty to protect it. And finally, it was claimed that the president had at least on one occasion taken advantage of his official position to make certain investments for his own personal advantage.

A copy of this letter accidentally fell into Gorham's hands, and his indignation at its needlessly antagonistic wording was tempered by several elements of surprise. The frankness with which the grievances were stated was an evidence that his a.s.sociates were prepared to force the break with him, and to dispense with whatever value his connection with the corporation might have. The reference to his domestic complications surprised him not a little, showing as it did a familiarity with this subject which he had not supposed to have become common property. The suggestion that he had been false to the ideals which he himself had imposed could only be construed as a gratuitous affront; yet these men who const.i.tuted the Executive Committee were not those who would lightly do this. He could quite understand their resentment of both his att.i.tude and his words at the last meeting--he had expected them to make an effort to wrest from him, but in such a way as not to jeopardize their own interests, the supreme authority which he had forced from them; yet they all knew him too well even to suggest any transaction on his part so at variance with the standards which he had established.

After thinking it all over, he sent for Covington, and as the younger man entered he handed him the communication.

"Have you seen this before?" Gorham asked.

"Yes; Litchfield just showed it to me."

"What does it mean?"

"Compromise, I hope," Covington replied. "Nothing else can prevent a great calamity to the Companies. I am even more certain of this now than before."

"How do they know anything about my personal affairs?"

"I can't imagine, unless through some one of the secret-service men."

"You, of course, have made no reference to it?"

"Certainly not." Covington resented the suggestion.