And I have an idea that we are going to stand on our own legs again, and recover our self-respect and our fighting capacity; and I rather think we'll stop this hold-up business, and that our Inter-County friend will let go the sand-bag and pocket the jimmy, and talk business across the line-fence." Quarrier's characteristic pallor was no index to his feelings, nor was his icy reticence.

All hell might be boiling below.
When anybody gave Quarrier a letter to read he took a long time reading it; but if he was slow he was also minute; he went over every word again and again, studying, absorbing each letter, each period, the conformation of every word.

And when he ended he had in his brain a photograph of the letter which he would never forget.
And now, slowly, minutely, methodically, he was going over and over Plank's words, and his manner of saying them, and their surface import, and the hidden one, if any.
If Plank had spoken the truth--and there was no reason to doubt it--Plank had quietly acquired a controlling interest in Amalgamated Electric.

That meant treachery in somebody.

Who?
Probably Siward, perhaps Belwether.