rs was alone
with his secretary, who at my first words shot out of the room. He was
bending over a stack of papers, and as I landed at his desk he looked up
quickly, and in a surprised way asked:

"What does this mean, Lawson?"

No one ever enters Mr. Rogers' room without his permission.

"It means that I have just learned that you and Stillman have decided to
break your solemn promise to me." I tried to control myself, but the
seethe of rage almost choked me. "It means that you have decided to take
more of that subscription money than the five millions we agreed upon,
and that means hell."

Mr. Rogers stood up, his jaws set as in their last hold, and,
recognizing the crisis, he met me, not with the fierce anger I half
expected and hoped he would show, but with quiet earnestness.

"Stop just there, Lawson--remember you are in my office. Who gave you
this tale?"

"Never mind. Is it true? Are you going to break your promise to me? Do
you intend to allot the public more than five millions?"

He hesitated only a second. Just a second, but it seemed an age; then
slowly and calmly: "Yes, it has been decided that considering the
tremendous number and amounts of the subscription it will be best to
give them more."

"How much more?" I shouted, for I was beside myself.

"Ten millions in all," he slowly answered.

"Who has decided?"

"Every one, Mr. Rockefeller, Stillman, all of us."

"All of us? Have _I_ been consulted? Have _I_ decided? Have _I_
consented to the breaking of your word, Mr. Rockefeller's word? What
have Stillman and the rest to say about this? What have they to do with
the promises I have made the people? I have been trapped just as all the
others you and I have dealt with have been trapped. I see it all now.
Trapped, trapped until now it is too late for me even to save my
reputation. To think I should have been fool enough to allow myself to
be made a stool-pigeon for 'Standard Oil,' and all because I took your
word."

My rage was exhausted, and then, heartbroken, I turned and plead, plead
for fair treatment, for an honest deal for my friends and
associates--plead for my good name in his keeping--plead as I never
before plead to any man. I had lost control of myself--begged as no man
should beg another even for life, though the things I sought were more
than life. He calmly awaited the end of my feverish, broken petition;
then he went to work as the expert diamond cutter goes at a crystal. He
fo