Men of Affairs - Part 24
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Part 24

Richard Frencham Altar was exceedingly affable in the car. It was a big, comfortable, Rolls saloon, and he sat between Van Diest and the American. Laurence occupied the seat next to the driver.

He had tried to say a few words to Auriole before taking his place in the car but she had merely shrugged her shoulders and entered a waiting taxi. The two vehicles drove in opposite directions, from which it would appear that her task in the affair was accomplished.

"I hope I shall see some more of that young lady," he remarked. Van Diest nodded gloomily and Hipps jerked out:

"Probably will."

After that they drove in silence.

"Forgive me for criticising your methods," said Richard at last, "but shouldn't I be blindfolded or something? I'm familiar with all these roads and could walk back without even asking the way."

"There might be difficulties."

"Oh, quite. It was only a suggestion. I want to keep up the spirit of the thing. If I have to be Shanghaied I'd like it to be done properly."

"You wa.s.s very high spirited, Mr. Barraclough."

"Why not? Comfortable car--pleasant company."

"Yees. With us this was a very serious business."

"That's all to the good, but let's keep in humour. By the way, since everything's open and above board, where are you taking me?"

"Laurence's house."

"Wanted to know 'cos of getting my letters forwarded."

"There won't be a whole lot of communication with the outer world,"

said Hipps.

"I see. And how long are you proposing to keep me there?"

"My dear old fellow," Laurence spoke over his shoulder, "that depends entirely on yourself."

There was deeper significance in the tone than in the words.

"That's cordial," said Richard, "downright hostly."

"But paste this in your hat," said Hipps ominously. "Conditions won't improve by outstaying your welcome. It'll be sweet if you make it short--if not----"

He did not complete the sentence.

"A declining stock," Richard smiled then shook his head reproachfully.

"You know, gentlemen, yours is an extremely heterodox way of doing business. You must be feeling pretty hopeless to have resorted to measures of this kind."

"I guess the market'll improve," said Hipps and relapsed into silence.

It seemed ages before the car slowed down and entered the gates of a solid mid-Victorian house, isolated from similar houses by two or three acres of treeful grounds. The front door was opened by two men-servants of none too prepossessing appearance, who came down the steps as the car pulled up. It was significant of precaution that they tacitly formed up one on each side of Richard and escorted him within.

"The only thing lacking," he remarked, "is a red carpet and an awning."

But his disposition toward gaiety was unshared by his companions. The two servants conducted him mutely into the dining room where a meal was awaiting them. Van Diest beckoned him to a place at the table and, tucking a napkin under his left ear, seated himself and began to attack the victuals without comment. Ezra P. Hipps turned the key in the lock and dropped it in his pocket before occupying the chair facing Richard.

As the ostensible host Laurence sat at the head of the table and instructed the servants to open the wine. The change of courses was effected by means of a small service lift inset in one of the walls.

Not the smallest effort was made at conversation--dishes came and went, gla.s.ses were filled and emptied in absolute silence. There was something ominous in this freedom from talk and the quiet broken only by the tinkle of table implements and the rather noisy character of Van Diest's feeding. Richard was struck by the old man's prodigious capacity for devouring food. He ate with a calculated energy as though the safety of nations depended upon his sustenance. Apart from the ordinary fare, he demolished about eighteen inches of a long French loaf at his side, tearing pieces from it with his short stubby fingers and filling his mouth with great wads of crust and dough. Richard afterwards learnt that this voracity of appet.i.te was nerve begotten.

In moments of acute agitation it was Van Diest's custom to eat enormously on the theory that a full belly begets a placid mind. His little piglike eyes darted to and fro among the cates before him a.s.suring themselves that he was missing nothing.

In direct ant.i.thesis to this wolfish feeding were the manners of Oliver Laurence. He toyed with his victuals, cutting them into the littlest pieces and almost flirting with his gla.s.s of wine.

Ezra P. Hipps ate and drank, as he did everything else in life--thoroughly and with conviction. The meal finished he pushed back his chair, unlocked the door, tilted his head to indicate to the servants that they could get out, locked the door again and crossed to the mantelpiece.

"Cigar," he said.

Laurence provided one and offered a light. Hipps shook his head and sticking the cigar in his mouth he proceeded to eat it with a curious rotary motion.

"Now!" he said and it sounded like a blow upon a gong.

"Curtain up," said Richard and steeled himself for any eventuality.

"You're caught, Mr. Barraclough."

"But not caught out," came the instant reply.

"Ever handled a cheque for a million pounds?"

"I have not."

"Van!"

Mr. Van Diest felt in his pockets and produced a banker's draft which he laid on the table before Richard. It was payable to the order of Anthony Barraclough.

Richard flicked it aside.

"Old ground," he said. "No good to me, gentlemen."

"Let's talk."

"Fire away."

"I needn't repeat what you have to do to earn that trifle, Anthony, but here's a point worth considering. Doubtless you got the idea the price we're willing to pay'll rise. You're wrong--it'll fall. If you speak tonight that draft's yours and an interest beside, but every day you keep us waiting'll cost you fifty thousand pounds."

"Thank G.o.d I can afford it," said Richard.

"Roughly speaking it'll pan out over a period of three weeks, at the end of which time you get just nothing, savez?"

"I savez that you and I will be in the same position at the end as we are at the beginning."

Ezra P. Hipps shook his head gravely but his metallic blue eyes never shifted their gaze for an instant.