In silence the partners watched the press of traffic, each busy with his own thoughts, Waldron waiting for Flint to reopen fire on him, and the Billionaire decided to say no more till his associate should make some move.

Thus the limousine reached the Staten Island ferry, that glorious monument of municipal ownership wrecked by Tammany grafting.

In silence they smoked while the car rolled down the incline and out onto the huge ferry boat.

Then, as the crowded craft got under way, a minute later, both men left the car and strolled to the rail to watch the glittering sparkle of the sunlight on the harbor; the teeming commerce of the port; the creeping liners and busy tugs; the towering figure of Liberty, her flameless torch held far aloft in mockery.
Suddenly Waldron spoke.
"You can't do it, I tell you!" said he, waving an eloquent hand toward the sky.

"It's too big, the air is, as I said before.