Royson had been city attorney and in reality the tool of a ring. His ambition was boundless. Through friends he had broached a subject very dear to him; he desired to become counsel for the large corporations that Barksdale represented, and there was a surprised satisfaction in his tones as he welcomed the railroad president and gave him a seat.
Barksdale opened the conversation on this line and asked for a written opinion upon a claim of liability in a recent accident. He went further and stated that perhaps later Royson might be relied upon frequently in such cases. The town was talking of nothing else at that time but the Royson card. It was natural that Barksdale should refer to it.
"A very stiff communication, that of yours, about Mr. Morgan," he said, carelessly; "it will probably be fortunate for you if your informant is not mistaken."
"There is no mistake," said Royson, leaning back in his chair, glad that the subject had been brought up. "It does seem a rough card to write, but I have reason to think there was no better way out of a very ugly complication."
"The name of your informant will be demanded, of course."
"Hardly!" Royson arose and closed the door. "If you have a few moments and do not mind hearing this, I will tell you in confidence the whole business. Who would be sought to make a demand upon me for the name of my informant?"
"One of the Montjoys naturally, but your relationship barring them they would perhaps find Mr. Morgan a second."
"But suppose that I prove conclusively that the information came from a member of the Montjoy family? What could they do? Under the circumstances which have arisen their hands are tied. As a matter of fact I am the only one that can protect them. If the matter came to that point, as a last resort I could refuse to fight, for the reason given in the letter."
Barksdale was silent. The whole devilish plot flashed upon him. He knew in advance the person described as a member of the Montjoy family, and he knew the base motives of the man who at that moment was dishonoring him with his confidence. His blood boiled within him. Cool and calm as he was by nature, his face showed emotion as he arose and said:
Royson stood by the door, his hand upon the knob, after his visitor had gone.