VII


The morning of the fifth day since Mrs. Marteen's departure found Gard
in early consultation in the directors' room of his Wall Street office,
facing a board of directors with but one opinion--he must go at once to
Washington. Strangely enough, the plan met with stubborn resistance from
his inner self. There was every reason for his going, but he did not
want to go. His advisers and fellow directors looked in amazement as
they saw him hesitate, and for once the Great Man was at a loss to
explain. He knew, and they knew, that there was nothing that should
detain him, nothing that could by any twist be construed into a valid
excuse for refusal. He amazed himself and them by abruptly rising from
his seat, bunching the muscles of his jaw in evident antagonism and
hurling at them his ultimatum in a voice of defiance.

"Of course, gentlemen, it is evident that I must go, and I will. The
situation requires it. But I ask you to name someone else--the
vice-president, and you, Corrighan--in case something arises to prevent
my leaving the city."

Langley, the lawyer, rose protesting.

"But, Mr. Gard, no one _can_ take your place. It's the penalty, perhaps,
of being what and who you are, but the honor of your responsibilities
demands it. There is more at stake than your own interests, or the
interest of your friends. There's the public, your stockholders. You owe
it to them and to yourself to shoulder this responsibility without any
'ifs,' 'ands' or 'buts.'"