And he
doesn't know how close you and I are."
"Suggested that you call my loans, did he?" I went on.
"You mustn't blame him, Blacklock; really you mustn't," said Corey
earnestly, for he was a pretty good friend to those he liked, as friendship
goes in finance. "He happened to hear. You know the Langdons keep a sharp
watch on operations in their stock. And he dropped in to warn me as a
friend. You'd do the same thing in the same circumstances. He didn't say a
word about my calling your loans. I--to be frank--I instantly thought of it
myself. I intended to do it when you came, but"--a sickly smile--"you
anticipated me."
"I understand," said I good-humoredly. "I don't blame him." And I didn't
then.
After I had completed my business at the National Industrial, I went back
to my office and gathered together the threads of my web of defense. Then
I wrote and sent out to all my newspapers and all my agents a broadside
against the management of the Textile Trust--it would be published in
the morning, in good time for the opening of the Stock Exchange. Before
the first quotation of Textile could be made, thousands on thousands of
investors and speculators throughout the country would have read my letter,
would be believing that Matthew Blacklock had detected the Textile Trust
in a stock-jobbing swindle, and had promptly turned against it, preferring
to keep faith with his customers and with the public.
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