The Profiteers Part 22

"Roberts? One of our best buyers!" Phipps exclaimed. "Dear me, how's that? Can't we meet him, Harrison? Is it a matter of salary?"

"I am afraid not, sir."

"What then?"

"Mr. Roberts has leanings towards socialism, sir. He seems to think that the energies of our company tend to increase the distress which exists in the north."

The great man leaned back in his chair.

"G.o.d bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "What on earth has that to do with Roberts? He isn't the conscience of the firm. He draws a matter of a thousand a year for doing as he is told."

"I tried to argue with him on those lines, sir," Harrison replied. "I am sorry to say I found him obdurate."

"He can be replaced, I suppose?" Phipps shrugged his shoulders.

"With some difficulty, sir," Harrison felt compelled to admit. "There is, as I dare say you are aware, sir, a certain feeling against us in the various Exchanges. The best men are warned against accepting employment with us."

"We pay higher salaries than any one else in the trade."

"The business methods of the company towards its employees," the manager acknowledged, "have always been excellent. Still, there is a feeling."

The chairman of the B. & I. sighed.

"We will pursue the subject later, Harrison," he said. "In the meantime, promote some one else on the staff, if necessary. Do your best to fill Roberts' place adequately."

"Very good, sir."

Dredlinton lounged into the office a few minutes later. Phipps welcomed him without any particular enthusiasm, but promptly dismissed the typist to whom he had been dictating.

"It happens that you are just the man I want to see," he declared.

"Sit down."

Dredlinton sank a little wearily into an easy-chair, after a glance of disappointment at the retreating figure.

"Can't think why you always have such d.a.m.ned ugly girls about you, Phipps," he yawned. "Gives me the creeps to look at them."

Peter Phipps smiled as he drew a box of cigars from his desk.

"Then I will tell you the reason, my friend," he said. "For pleasure there is no one who appreciates beauty more than I do. For business I have a similar pa.s.sion for efficiency. The two are never confused in my mind."

"Regular paragon, aren't you!" Dredlinton murmured. "Why did you want to see me, by the by?"

"What happened last night?" Phipps asked a little abruptly.

"I obeyed orders," Dredlinton told him. "I told her ladys.h.i.+p that I should be home to dinner and probably bring some friends. I was a little late but she waited."

Phipps smiled maliciously.

"She didn't dine with Wingate, then, or go to the theatre?"

"She did not," Dredlinton replied. "I put the kibosh on it, according to orders."

Peter Phipps pushed the cigars across the desk towards his companion.

"Try one of these before you enter upon the labours of the day," he invited, "and just see what you think of these figures."

Dredlinton glanced at the papers carelessly at first and then with genuine interest. They were certainly sufficiently surprising to rouse him for a moment from his apathy.

"Marvellous!" he exclaimed.

"Marvellous indeed," his Chief a.s.sented. "Now listen to me, Dredlinton.

Why are you sitting there, looking like a whipped dog? Why can't you wear a more cheerful face? If it's Farnham's cheque you are worrying about, here it is," he added, drawing an oblong slip of paper from the pigeonhole of his desk, tearing it in two, and throwing it into the waste-paper basket. "A year ago, you told me that the one thing in the world you needed was money. Well, aren't you getting it? You have only to run straight with us here, and to work in my interests in another quarter that you know of, and your fortune is made. Cheer up and look as though you realised it."

Dredlinton crossed and uncrossed his legs nervously. His eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids puffy. Notwithstanding careful grooming, he had the air of a man running fast to seed.

"I am nervous this morning, Phipps," he confided. "Had a bad night. Every one I've come across, too, lately, seems to be cursing the B. & I."

"Let them curse," was the equable reply. "We can afford to hear a few harsh words when we are making money on such a scale."

"Yes, but how long is it going to last?" Dredlinton asked fretfully. "Did you see the questions that were asked in the House yesterday?"

Phipps leaned back in his chair and laughed quietly.

"Questions? Yes! Who cares about them? Believe me, Dredlinton, our Government has one golden rule. It never interferes with private enterprise. I don't know whether you realise it, but since the war there is more elasticity about trading methods than there was before. The worst that could happen to us might be that they appointed a commission to investigate our business methods. Well, they'd find it uncommonly hard to get at the bottom of them, and by the time they were in a position to make a report, the whole thing would be over."

"It's making us d.a.m.ned unpopular," Dredlinton grumbled.

"For the moment," the other agreed, "but remember this. There was never such a thing as an unpopular millionaire known in history, so long as he chose to spend his money."

Dredlinton drew a letter from his pocket and handed it across the table.

"Read that," he invited. "It's the fifth I've had within the last two days."

Phipps glanced at the beginning and the end, and threw it carelessly back.

"Pooh! A threatening letter!" he exclaimed. "Why, I had a dozen of those this morning. My secretary is making a sc.r.a.pbook of them."

"That one of mine seems pretty definite, doesn't it?" Dredlinton remarked nervously.

"Some of mine were uncommonly plain-spoken," Phipps acknowledged, "but what's the odds? You're not a coward, Dredlinton; neither am I. Neither is Skinflint Martin, nor Stanley. Chuck letters like that on the fire, as they have, and keep cheerful. The streets of London are the safest place in the world. No cable from your friend in New York yet?"

"Not a word," Dredlinton answered. "I expected it last night. You haven't forgotten that Wingate's due here this morning--that is, if he keeps his appointment?"

"Forgotten it? Not likely!" Phipps replied. "I was going to talk to you about that. We must have those shares. The fact of it is the Universal Line has played us false, the only s.h.i.+pping company which has. They promised to advise us of all proposed wheat cargoes, and they haven't kept their word. If my information is correct, and I expect confirmation of it at any moment in the cable I arranged to have sent to you, they have eleven steamers being loaded this very week. It's a last effort on the part of the Liverpool ring to break us."

"What'll happen if Wingate won't sell?" Dredlinton enquired.

"I never face disagreeable possibilities before the necessity arrives,"

was the calm reply. "Wingate is certain to sell. He won't have an idea why we want to buy, and I shall give him twenty thousand pounds profit."