The Profiteers Part 37

"Endurance," he observed, "is largely a matter of nerves. You must make this a test. If you fail, well, your release always rests with your two friends. I am sure they will not see you suffer unduly."

Phipps leaned a little across the table.

"We shall suffer," he said hoa.r.s.ely, "but it will be for hours. With you, Wingate, it will be a matter of years! Our turn will come when we visit you in prison. d.a.m.n you!"

CHAPTER XXI

In the Board room of the British and Imperial Granaries, Limited, were four vacant chairs and four unoccupied desks, each of the latter piled with a ma.s.s of letters. Outside was disquietude, in the street almost a riot. Callers were compelled to form themselves into a queue,--and left with scanty comfort. Wingate, by what seemed to be special favour, was pa.s.sed through the little throng and ushered by Harrison himself into the deserted Board room.

"So you have no news of any of your directors, Harrison?" the former observed.

"None whatever, sir."

The two men exchanged long and in a way searching glances. Harrison was, as always, the lank and cadaverous nonent.i.ty, the man of negative suspicions and infinite reserves. His eyes were fixed upon the carpet. He was a study in pa.s.sivity.

"What happens to the business, eh--to your big operations?"

Wingate enquired.

"The business suffers to some extent, of course," Harrison admitted.

"Your banking arrangements?"

"I have limited powers of signature. So far the bank has been lenient."

"I see," Wingate ruminated,--and waited.

"The general policy of the firm is, as you are aware, to buy," Harrison continued thoughtfully. "That policy has naturally been suspended during the last forty-eight hours. There are rumours, too, of a large s.h.i.+pment of wheat from an unexpected source, by some steamers which we had failed to take account of. Prices are dropping every hour."

"Materially?"

The confidential clerk shook his head.

"Only by points and fractions. The market is never sure of our princ.i.p.als. Sometimes when they have bought, most largely they have remained inactive for a few days beforehand, on purpose to depress prices."

"Do people believe in--their disappearance?"

"Not down here--in the City, I mean," Harrison replied grimly. "To be frank with you, the market suspects a plant."

"Let me," Wingate suggested, "give you my impression as to the disappearance of three of your directors."

"It would be very interesting," Harrison murmured, his eyes following the hopeless efforts of a huge fly to escape through the closed window.

"I picture them to myself," his visitor went on, "as indulging in a secret tour through the north of England---a tour undertaken in order that they may realise personally whether their tactics have really produced the suffering and distress reported."

"Ah!"

"I picture them convinced. I ask myself what would be their natural course of action. Without a doubt, they would sell wheat."

"Sell wheat" Harrison repeated. "Yes!"

"They would be in a hurry," Wingate continued. "They would not wish to waste a moment. They would probably telephone their instructions."

From the great office outside came the hum of many voices, the shrill summons of many telephones, a continued knocking and shouting at the locked door. To all these sounds Harrison remained stoically indifferent.

He was studying once more the pattern of the carpet.

"Telephone," he repeated thoughtfully.

"It would be sufficient, if you recognized the voice?"

"Confirmation--from a fellow director, I might have to ask for,"

Harrison decided.

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing!"

"And how long would it take you to sell, say--"

"I should prefer not to have quant.i.ties mentioned," Harrison interrupted. "When we start to sell in a dozen places, the thing is beyond exact calculation. The brake can be put on if necessary."

"I understand," Wingate replied---"but I should think it probable, if the truth dawns upon our friends--that no brake will be necessary.--As regards your own affairs, Harrison?"

"I received your letter last night, sir."

"You found its contents satisfactory?"

"I found them generous, sir."

Wingate took up his hat and stick a moment or so later.

"My visit here," he remarked, "might easily be misconstrued. Would it be possible for me to leave without fighting my way through that mob?"

Harrison led the way through an inner room to a door opening out upon a pa.s.sage. Dark buildings frowned down upon them from either side. The place was a curious little oasis from the noonday heat. In the distance was a narrow vista of pa.s.sing men and vehicles. Harrison stood there with the handle of the door in his hand. There was no farewell between him and his departing visitor, no sign of intelligence in his inscrutable face.

"Presuming that the disappearance of Mr. Phipps, Mr. Rees and Lord Dredlinton is accounted for by this supposed journey to the North,"

he ventured, "when should you imagine that they might be communicating with me?"

"About dawn to-morrow," Wingate replied. "You will be here."

"I never leave," was the quiet answer. "About dawn to-morrow?"

"Or before."

Josephine asked the same question in a different manner when Wingate entered her little sitting room a few hours later.