United States or Guinea-Bissau ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
There's a lifetime ahead yet, and I don't care so I see him down right down where I need him. Maybe I won't get the money, but we'll get him, and that'll do. Yes, cut out what I said, and go ahead. Tell me about it." Idepski displayed neither enthusiasm nor added interest. He accepted the position with seeming indifference. Hellbeam to him was just an employer.
For once the man's smile reached his eyes. "What's his position in Sachigo?" Hellbeam demanded. "Right on top of the business side of it." "A financial man?" The banker's interest was obviously stirred. But Idepski shook his dark head. "That's the queer of it," he said. "He's a youngster straight out of the forest with no sort of record except as a pretty tough fighting proposition.
The dark eyes glanced over the table for the gold cigarette box that always stood there. "Help yourself," the banker ordered rather than invited. Idepski needed no second bidding. "You got all my code messages?" he asked. "Good," as the Swede nodded. "Then you know the position of the mill. Say, that feller Harker needs a sort of apology from me also from you. The mill's a wonder.
It's less pleasant, so I've kept it till the last. Hellbeam is in Quebec. So is his agent the man Idepski. My informant tells me he saw the latter leaving the steam-packet office. It suggests things are on the move your way again. However, my man is keeping tab. I'll get warning through at the first sign of danger." Standing looked up. His half smile had gone.
The agent passed into the great man's presence, slim, dark, confident. Then the door closed without a sound. "Well?" There was no cordiality in the greeting. That was not Hellbeam's way with a paid agent. Idepski walked across to the chair always waiting to receive a visitor and sat down. "May I sit?" he inquired coolly, after the operation had been performed. Hellbeam nodded.
Orders from the bridge of the packet boat rang out over the water. Then Standing went on. "I want to find Idepski aboard," he said. He was scarcely addressing his companion. "It would be good to get Master Walter here, fifty-three degrees north." A short, hard laugh punctuated his words. Then he turned abruptly. "Who's running No. 10 camp?"
So easy I almost feel sorry for Idepski." "It is Idepski?" Bat filled and lit his pipe. "It surely is. No other. And I'm glad. Now we'll quit talk, old friend. Just smoke, and look out of that window, and think like hell." Bat's understanding of his friend was well founded. The extreme nervous tension in Standing was obvious. It was in the wide, dark eyes.
But first, Bat, here, is going to relieve you of the useless weapons I see you've got on you. Get those, Bat! There's a gun and a sheath knife, and they're clumsily showing their shape under his dungarees." It was the word the mill-manager had awaited. He was on his feet in an instant. Idepski stirred to action. He turned to meet him. "Keep your darn hands off!" he cried fiercely. "By "
A means to those ends which he had in view. If Hellbeam turned him down it would mean a setback, but not a disaster, and Idepski appraised setbacks at their simple value, without exaggeration. Besides, he knew that this Swede, powerful, wealthy as he was, could not afford to do without him in this matter. His intolerant, hectic temper mattered nothing at all.
And it sounded more like the Teutonic, "Ja!" Putting up the receiver again he leant his clumsy body back in his chair. His small eyes no longer contained their dreaming light. They were turned expectantly upon the polished mahogany door. The door swung silently open. "Mr. Idepski!" The announcement was made in a carefully modulated tone.
Word Of The Day