CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PRESIDENT THAXTER ARRIVES
Hatton sat at his desk, cold of eye and calm in bearing. Opposite him sat Nace, a man with small, dull eyes and heavy jowls. Each was waiting for the other to continue the conversation. Finally Hatton pushed back his chair and observed:
“I am sorry you cannot wait till Mr. Thaxter arrives. I have no powers to complete the transaction without his consent.”
“That’s the trouble with working for a man who’s president of a dozen different concerns,” smiled Nace. “I’ve always worked for Number One.”
“I can easily believe you have been very successful in looking out for Number One,” sneered Hatton.
“What of it?” asked Nace sharply, his eyes glinting. “The Great Northern never got ahead of me much, eh?”
Hatton yawned carelessly, and replied, “Up to now there has never been any difference between us, Mr. Nace.”
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