"It shows where you stand on this particular affair, and gives your
balance of stock and cash, which we are ready to pay over in whole or in
part, in case you may want to leave some of it against the loans on the
other section."

I turned to the paper; I leaned over it, letting my two hands with the
elbows resting on the table support my head. Mr. Rogers could see only
the back and top of my head, no part of my face. At the first glance I
caught the balance--it was a little less than two millions and a half.
At once the other lines upon the sheet became a crimson blur. Into my
mind rushed an avalanche of figures and facts which seemed to prove
irresistibly that I should have read nine millions in place of the
numbers that were burning themselves into my brain. But what if it were
rightly but two and a half millions, and the great sum on which all my
market movements had been predicated was a hideous miscalculation on my
part? Then inevitably was I hopelessly bankrupt, or saved from that only
to find my neck irrevocably caught in the "Standard Oil" noose. I strove
fiercely to steady my nerves, to arrest the stampeding terrors that had
broken loose in my brain. There came to me a feverish memory of the
hideous procession of Thursday's midnight vigil. I desperately
asseverated to myself, "I must be cool, I must, I must." But all my
resolutions went as goes the powder when touched by the match. In an
instant more nothing in the world mattered; I sprang to my feet, kicked
over the chair, and with an exclamation which was half yell, half
imprecation, I stuck the paper under Mr. Rogers' eyes. On the balance
line I beat a tattoo with my trembling forefinger. Heaven knows what I
said, for all barriers were down and a flood-tide of rage, overwhelming,
terrific, swept my being. There was no chance for Mr. Rogers to answer
or to interrupt me. Suddenly I became conscious that I was asking, "Am I
to understand that this is final? Is this what I get for all I have
stood for?" My voice as I heard it was strange--a hoarse hiss--and the
words fell on my ear like a death sentence. "No, by God, no!" I sprang
between him and the door.

"Lawson, in the name of Heaven, stop for a second; there is some
mistake; I see there is some mistake, some terrible blunder that they
have made upstairs. Don't say another word. Give me that paper and I'll
take it to Mr. Rockefeller. He will see what is wrong; he and I'll go
over it together and you shal