And the conversation became very cordial between the two, which Mortimer observed, keeping one ironical eye on Plank, while he continued a desultory discussion with O'Hara concerning a very private dinner which somebody told somebody that somebody had given to Quarrier and the Inter-County Electric people; which, if true, plainly indicated who was financing the Inter-County scheme, and why Amalgamated stock had tumbled again yesterday, and what might be looked for from the Algonquin Trust Company's president.
"Amalgamated Electric doesn't seem to like it a little bit," said O'Hara.

"Ferrall, Belwether, and Siward are in it up to their necks; and if Quarrier is really the god in the machine, and if he really is doing stunts with Amalgamated Electric, and is also mixing feet with the Inter-County crowd, why, he is virtually paralleling his own road; and why, in the name of common sense, is he doing that?
He'll kill it; that's what he'll do." "He can afford to kill it," observed Mortimer, punching the electric button and making a significant gesture toward his empty glass as the servant entered; "a man like Quarrier can afford to kill anything." "Yes; but why kill Amalgamated Electric?
Why not merge?
Why, it's a crazy thing to do, it's a devil of a thing to do, to parallel your own line!" insisted O'Hara.

"That is dirty work.

People don't do such things these days.

Nobody tears up dollar bills for the pleasure of tearing." "Nobody knows what Quarrier will do," muttered Mortimer, who had tried hard enough to find out when the first ominous rumours arose concerning Amalgamated, and the first fractional declines left the street speechless and stupefied.
O'Hara sat frowning, and fingering his glass.