Armstrong entered his own office a little after nine in the morning,
crushing a newspaper in his hand; what he had read there had rendered
him livid with helpless anger. He found Jimmy Wren awaiting him.
"Hello!" exclaimed Wren. "I saw Mansfield last night. He said that
he'd attend to releasing this attachment by this afternoon anyhow.
There's a check from Food Products in the mail, but we can't use it;
everything tied up."
Armstrong only nodded, and handed Wren a penciled list of names.
"Call up these fellows, Jimmy, or their secretaries, and make
appointments for me between ten and twelve this morning. Spread the
appointments as well as you can. If I don't raise that ten
thousand--"
"As bad as that, is it?"' asked Jimmy Wren, his eyes anxious.
"You're borrowing?"
"How the devil can I get it without?"
"Well, I sort of figured on that last night." Jimmy Wren came to the
desk, and began to disgorge bills from his pockets. He looked up at
the astounded Armstrong with a grin. "I'm darned sorry I couldn't do
better, Reese. Here's twelve hundred to throw into the pot, anyhow."
For an instant Armstrong was speechless. Then:
"By gad, Jimmy! You can't mean--where did you get this cash?"
Wren colored slightly.
"I had some in my sock, and I borrowed the rest--from a friend. Now,
get it tied up and I'll go sit over the telephone. I'll have a taxi
here. You cool off and we'll make the rounds together."
Jimmy departed hastily, leaving Armstrong staring at the pile of
bills. Jimmy Wren the impulsive, the warm-hearted, the devoted!
At one minute of twelve, Armstrong reached the auction rooms in Vesey
Street. When he entered, the Food Products notes were being offered
for sale. Armstrong handed over ten thousand in cash for them.
How he had collected that money, he scarcely knew; he knew, however,
that he had in his thoughts wronged his friends. That
two-million-dollar suit had rung like a bugle-blast across the pages
of the morning papers, yet his friends had rallied. He had seen man
after man, stating his case briefly, setting his simple word against
all the thunderous allegations of the enemy--and he had won.
The moment his victory was assured, he came near going to pieces.
For two hours he had been under a tremendous strain, pouring forth
every atom of his energy and will-power; now he was shaken, broken by
the effort, exhausted. He knew that Findlater was somewhere here,
and Macgowan, but he ignored them. He got away as quickly as
possible, in the taxicab that Jimmy had hired.
Of what took place during the remainder of that day, he was scarcely
conscious. The blow had been warded, however. And, in the
afternoon, he had Mansfield's grim assurance that the suit would
never come into court, that the attachment was released.
As though that victory turned the tide of affairs, the succeeding
days witnessed a steady ebb in the fortunes of Findlater and
Macgowan, a corresponding flood in the prospects of the Protective
Association. Mansfield was hammering away energetically. He
obtained an injunction which cut short Findlater's campaign with the
money and property of Consolidated; this forced the enemy to spend
actual money of his own, and was a shrewd blow.
The annual meeting of the stockholders of Consolidated was called,
and the place named was Wilmington. Upon this fact Sessions seized
with avidity. He flooded the mails with letters, pointing out that
Findlater was afraid to hold the meeting under the jurisdiction of
South Dakota courts, pointing out that Wilmington was not readily
accessible to many of the investors, driving home new charges of
trickery and fraud.
Now the fight was becoming serious for Macgowan, and the latter knew
it. Thousands of the investors were registered with the Association,
proxies were pouring in, and the denials and camouflage used by the
Consolidated directors availed little. Findlater was himself
carrying on a desperate battle for proxies, under the guidance of
Macgowan, and neglected nothing in the effort to avert disaster.
Armstrong wondered how the two of them would get out from under the
swelling tide of libel and perjury which they were creating.
Then the campaign rose to a smashing climax--all that Armstrong could
have desired.
Into Armstrong's office, late one afternoon, walked Henderson, the
assistant treasurer of Consolidated Securities. He looked at
Armstrong with a wry smile.
"I want to get into this Protective Association and turn over my
voting proxy to you," he said quietly. "And if there's any
information I can furnish, just ask."
"What's the answer?" demanded Armstrong curtly. He knew Henderson
was square, yet--
"I've resigned." Henderson read his thought. "Things are getting too
rotten over there to suit me. If you can use me in your company, I'd
like a job--but I'm not offering you information to get it. My ten
shares of stock look pretty big to me, and if the Association doesn't
win this fight they're going to look pretty small. Job or no, I'm
with you."
"That's straight talk," said Armstrong. "Come over and see Judge
Holcomb."
Within an hour the Association was in possession of affidavits from
Henderson which went into type and print the following day. At last
the inside operation of Consolidated, under Findlater's management,
was exposed to public scrutiny. To sum up Henderson's information:
1. The National Reduction Company, Findlater's pet scheme, had been
put through just as proposed to Armstrong, with large free gifts of
stock to Consolidated directors, and had to date cost the
stockholders of Consolidated something over a hundred thousand.
2. Further, Macgowan was purchasing all the preferred stock of
Consolidated that he could secure around seventy, using company funds
paid out on company checks. This stock was being resold to new
investors at nearly double that price. About a thousand shares per
week were changing hands in this fashion, and on each share Macgowan
and Findlater received ten dollars commission as private loot.
3. The back salaries given Macgowan and the other looters were
confirmed. Henderson also swore to a statement regarding the
financial solvency of Consolidated--a statement showing that the
value of Consolidated stock was dropping with alarming rapidity.
With these affidavits, the Protective Association swept into action.
Burton, Sessions and Holcomb took the stump, addressing meetings
wherever two or three investors could be gathered together. They
blew away the dust from Macgowan's tracks, centered the entire battle
upon the management of Findlater and his associates, appealed to the
investors to alter this management at the forthcoming annual meeting.
Dorns armed them well with photographic copies from Consolidated's
books and with letters written or received by Findlater. Henderson's
affidavits fortified them with startling facts. And all the while
the _Armstrong Review_ hammered away, reaching each individual
investor, backing up everything with the printed word.
Nor did the committee end here. To the stockholders they presented a
constructive program, with guarantees that the proxies would be used
to put it into effect. The chief points of this program were the
removal of the present management, a strict investigation of the
company's affairs, and an enforced accounting for misused funds.
Through all these weeks of campaigning swept the battle-cry of "Show
the books!"--a cry to which Findlater turned a deaf ear. Neither he
nor Macgowan were insensible to the danger that threatened them,
however.
They darted forth sudden and vicious attacks in a desperate effort so
to discredit Armstrong and his associates that the investors would
withhold proxies from them. The hand that launched these attacks was
that of Findlater, but the brain behind them all was that of
Macgowan, bitter and virulent. In half a dozen states Macgowan was
seeking to obtain indictments against Armstrong on any sort of
charge--but Armstrong, too, was fighting. Dorns and his men were
vigilant, Mansfield was quick to parry and strike back. So
transparent were the artifices of Macgowan that Armstrong was almost
lulled into a feeling of security.
The tide steadily set in favor of the Protective Association. The
body of stockholders were whipped into a frantic condition; suit and
counter-suit, charge and counter-charge, all contributed to lash them
into wild alarm. Upon some the crafty wiles of Macgowan prevailed;
his campaign for proxies was reaching a desperate climax. The
majority, however, came to realize the actual facts, and the magic of
Armstrong's name and personality was not lost. For, despite the most
incredible efforts, Macgowan was unable to discredit this man who had
been his friend. One would have said that every move of Macgowan's
was blocked by some invisible hand, or was brought to fruitless issue
by some unseen agent.
By the final week in March, the campaign ended. Weary, still athrill
with the fight they had waged, the committee of three returned to the
city, ready for the meeting at Wilmington. Armstrong had remained in
charge of the home offices, attending to the vast detail work that
was necessary. Now, when he came to check up with his associates,
they found cause for exultation indeed.
"Nearly all the outstanding shares," said Judge Holcomb, as they went
over the lists, "are owned in lots of one or two. So far, we seem to
be in control of a good ten thousand votes--"
"And more coming in with every mail," put in Sessions. "Besides what
we've bought up in the open market. How does she stand, Armstrong?"
"A total of thirty-five thousand outstanding," said Armstrong, who
knew the figures by heart. "At this minute we own or control twenty
thousand."
There was a moment of silence. Then Mansfield, who was present,
intervened to cut short the jubilant expressions of victory.
"Including those in the voting trust?"
"Yes. Three thousand there."
"Suppose we defer celebrations," said Judge Holcomb shrewdly.
"Everything's going to change before the meeting; it's bound to. If
I were you, I'd look for a last minute blow from those rascals.
Therefore, go slow--and don't let up!"
This was good advice. Armstrong realized that, notwithstanding the
apparent victory, both his personal credit and that of the Armstrong
Company had suffered an extraordinary amount of damage, not to
mention the harm that this fight was causing Consolidated as a
business concern. The damage would be assessed at law, but it was
done.
That Macgowan had met with some success in his campaign for proxies,
was evident. His methods had been to utilize falsehood, brazen
filing of suits which would never be tried, desperate attempts to
publicize Armstrong as a trickster and cheat. Yet with all this, the
control of Consolidated was bound to pass to Armstrong at the annual
meeting. His three thousand shares tied up in the voting trust
would, when released, confirm the victory.
But Judge Holcomb, keen old veteran that he was, had prophesied truly.
Six days before the annual meeting, the blow fell. Macgowan came
into the open as plaintiff, filing suit upon absolutely baseless
charges which, however, served as grounds for making an attachment.
Upon the voting trustees--Macgowan, Findlater and Jimmy Wren, whom
Armstrong had continued in the voting trust--were served the
attachment papers. By those papers, the Sheriff of New York
commanded that Armstrong's stock should not be released from the
voting trust until the attachment should be satisfied.
Mansfield came to the office, read the papers, listened in silence to
Armstrong's furious outburst of denunciation. Then he spoke, calmly.
"Surely, I warned you of such action, and you expected it--"
"Such action as this?" Armstrong struck the papers violently. "Do
you realize that these charges have not a particle of truth, of
substantiation--that the suit is illegal, the whole action a mockery
of the law?"
Mansfield, imperturbably, assented.
"Quite so. I realize, also, that we are helpless. After the
election this suit will be dismissed. Make up your mind, sir, that
Macgowan is going to vote your stock at this meeting! At any cost!
He cares not what punitive action we take afterward. He can fight
that in the courts, postpone retribution, evade from pillar to post.
In the end, he must settle; before that time comes, he will have
milked Consolidated to the limit, and will be well able to settle.
Our one hope is and must be to beat this trickster by the votes of
your stockholders."
Armstrong turned to Judge Holcomb, who was present with Bruton.
"Can we do that, gentlemen?"
Bruton had been swiftly checking over a paper in his hand. Now he
glanced up.
"We have at this moment one hundred votes in excess of a majority."
"What? You mean--"
"Even granting him the voting trust, Macgowan has lost. Proxies for
three hundred shares came in to-day. We are actually at this moment
on the safe side, and with what comes in during the next few days, we
shall be indisputably in control."
Mansfield rose.
"Gentlemen, I congratulate you on having won your own fight. I think
you have no further need of my advice and encouragement--for the
present."
He bowed and departed, and left them still incredulous, amazed by
their own achievement, even now scarce able to realize the swift
change from defeat into victory.