nothing, but had stared straight out of the window. For the past ten
minutes he had been waiting for Thompson to run down. It was he who broke
the silence.

"We're stuck fast"--he was speaking very slowly--"unless we can get
control of that Tillman City stock."

McNally shook his head doubtfully. "I'm afraid it's no good," he said.
"Look what we've offered them already. They think the stock is going to go
on booming clear up to the sky, and they won't sell. We couldn't get it at
par."

Porter's chair shot back suddenly. He walked over to the empty fireplace,
the other men watching him curiously. He spread his hands behind him
mechanically as if to warm them. Then he said:--

"I think we could get it if we were to offer par."

"Offer par!" thundered Thompson. "We could get Jim Weeks's holdings by
paying par."

Porter smiled indulgently. "I didn't say we'd _pay_ par for anything. But
I think if Mr. McNally were to sign a contract to pay par the day after
the M. and T. election, that he could vote the stock on election day."

McNally's plump hand came down softly on the table. "Good!" he said under
his breath.

But Mr. Thompson failed to understand. "But the contract?" he said.