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Roger Kendrick was in and disengaged when Wingate called upon him, a few minutes later. He welcomed his visitor cordially.
"That was a pretty good list you gave me the other day, Wingate," he remarked, "You've made money. You're making it still."
"Good!" Wingate commented, with a nod of satisfaction. "I dare say I shall need it all. Close up everything, Kendrick."
"The devil! One or two of your things are going strong, you know."
"Take profits and close up," Wingate directed. "I've another commission for you."
"One moment, then."
Kendrick hurried into the outer office and gave some brief instructions.
His client picked up the tape and studied it until his return.
"How are things in the House?" Wingate enquired, as he resumed his seat.
"Uneasy," Kendrick replied. "B. & I.'s are the chief feature. They show signs of weakness, owing to the questions in the House of Commons last night."
"I'm a bear on B. & I.'s," Wingate declared. "What are they to-day?"
"They opened at five and a quarter. Half-an-hour ago they were being offered at five and an eighth."
"Very well," Wingate replied, "sell."
"How many?"
"No limit. Simply sell."
The broker was a little startled.
"Do you know anything?" he asked.
"Nothing definite. I've been studying their methods for some time. What they've been trying to do practically is to corner wheat. No one has ever succeeded in doing it yet. I don't think they will. My belief is that they are coming to the end of their tether, and there is still a large s.h.i.+pment of wheat which will be afloat next week."
Kendrick answered an enquiry through the telephone and leaned back in his chair.
"Wingate," he said, "I'm not sure that I actually agree with you about the B. & I. They have a wonderful system of subsidiary companies, and their holdings of wheat throughout the country are enormous,--all bought, mind you, at much below to-day's price. If they were to realise to-day, they'd realise an enormous profit. Personally, it seems to me that they've made their money and they can realise practically when they like.
The price of wheat can't slump sufficiently to put them in Queer Street."
"The price of wheat is coming down, though, and coming down within the next ten days," Wingate p.r.o.nounced.
Kendrick stretched out his hand towards the cigarettes and pa.s.sed the box across to his friend.
"Why do you think so?" he asked bluntly. "According to accounts, the harvests all over the world are disastrous. There is less wheat being s.h.i.+pped here than ever before in the world's history. I can conceive that we may have reached the top, and that the price may decline a few points from now onwards, but even that would make very little difference. I can't see the slightest chance of any material fall in wheat."
"I can," Wingate replied. "Don't worry, Ken. No need to dash into the business like a Chicago booster. Just go at it quietly but unwaveringly. I suppose a good many of the B. & I. commissions are still open, and there's bound to be a little buying elsewhere, but I'm a seller of wheat, too, wherever there's any business doing. Wheat's coming down; so are the B. & I. shares. I'm not giving you verbal orders. Here's your warrant."
He drew a sheet of note paper towards him and wrote a few lines upon it.
Kendrick blotted and laid a paper weight upon it.
"That's one of the biggest things I've ever taken on for a client, Wingate," he said. "You won't mind if I venture upon one last word?"
"Not I," was the cheerful reply. "Go right ahead."
"You're sure that Phipps hasn't drawn you into this? He's a perfect devil for cunning, that man, and he's simply been waiting for your coming. I think it was the disappointment of his life when you first came down to the City and left him alone. You've shown wonderful restraint, old chap.
You're sure you haven't been goaded into this?"
Wingate smiled.
"Don't you worry about me, Ken," he begged. "Of course, in a manner of speaking, this is a duel between Phipps and myself, and if you were to ask my advice which to back, I don't know that I should care to take the responsibility of giving it. At the same time, I'm out to break Phipps and I rather think this time I'm going to do it.--Come along to the Milan, later on, and lunch. Lady Amesbury and Sarah Baldwin and a few others are coming."
"Lady Dredlinton, by any chance?" Kendrick asked.
"Lady Dredlinton, certainly."
"I'll turn up soon after one. And, Wingate."
"Well?"
"Don't think I'm a croaker, but I know Peter Phipps. There isn't a man on this earth I'd fear more as an enemy. He's unscrupulous, untrustworthy, and an unflinching hater. You and he are hard up against one another, I know, and I suppose you realise that your growing friends.h.i.+p with Josephine Dredlinton is simply h.e.l.l for him."
"I imagine you know that his attentions to her have been entirely unwelcome," Wingate said calmly.
"I will answer for it that she has never encouraged him for a moment,"
Kendrick a.s.sented, "yet Phipps is one of those men who never take 'no'
for an answer, who simply don't know what it is to despair of a thing.
I've been watching that menage for the last twelve months, and I've watched Peter Phipps fighting his grim battle. I think I was one of the party when he first met her. Since then, though the fellow has any amount of tact, his pursuit of her must have been a persecution. He put Dredlinton on the Board of the B. & I., solely to buy his way into the household. He sent him home one day in a new car--a present to his wife.
She has never ridden in it and she made her husband return it."
"I know," Wingate muttered. "I've heard a little of this, and seen it, too."
"Well, there you are," Kendrick concluded. "You know Phipps. You know what it must seem like to him to have another man step in, just as he may have been flattering himself that he was gaining ground. He hated you before. He'd give his soul, if he had one to break you now."
"He'll do what he can, Ken," said Wingate, with a smile, as he left the office, "but you may take it that the odds are a trifle on us.--Not later than one-thirty, then."
"There is no doubt," he remarked a moment later, as he stepped into his car, where Josephine was waiting for him, "that we are at war."
She laughed quietly. The excitement of those last few minutes in the offices of the British and Imperial Granaries had acted like a stimulant.
She had lost entirely her tense and depressed air. The colour of her eyes was newly discovered in the light that played there.
"You couldn't have fired the first shot in more dramatic fas.h.i.+on," she declared. "Even Mr. Phipps lost his nerve for a moment, and I thought that Henry was going to collapse altogether. I wonder what they are doing now."
"Ringing up Scotland Yard, or on their way there, I should think,"
Wingate replied.
She s.h.i.+vered for a moment.
"You are not afraid of the police, are you?" she asked.