"You decided to call it, eh?" 
"I have." 
Owen was puzzled by the old man's angry mood. He 
wondered what it all meant, but thought he and Cowper- 
wood might have had a few words. He went out to his 
desk to write a note and call a clerk. Butler went to the 
window and stared out. He was angry, bitter, brutal 
in his vein. 
"The dirty dog!" he suddenly exclaimed to himself, 
in a low voice. " I'll take every dollar he's got before I'm 
through with him. I'll send him to jail, I will. I'll 
break him, I will. Wait!" 
He clinched his big fists and his teeth. 
" I'll fix him. I'll show him. The dog! The damned 
scoundrel !" 
Never in his life before had he been so bitter, so cruel, 
so relentless in his mood. 
He walked his office thinking what he could do; but 
there was nothing that he really could do, apparently. 
He wanted to go back to Aileen and see what she had to 
say. If her face, or her lips, told him that his suspicion 
was true, he would deal with Cowperwood later. This 
city treasury business, now. It was not a crime in so 
far as Cowperwood was concerned; but it might be made 
to be. He would see. Anyhow, he was not through with 
Cowperwood. No, not by these many, many days.