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Updated: June 28, 2025
Perhaps, after all, there was where their hope lay. Why had she not told her father at once? It might have relieved his mind. John Burkett Ryder, the Colossus, the man of unlimited power! He could save her father and he would.
There was the light there could be no doubt about it, beaming forth cheerfully through the darkness. It was still a mile or more to the south along the shore past which we were drifting, and we certainly were nearly a mile, if not a full mile, from the coast. "How near do you judge that we shall drift to the station?" asked Cousin Silas of Burkett.
Had not President Roosevelt, in a recent sensational speech, declared that it might be necessary for the State to curb the colossal fortunes of America, and was not her hero, John Burkett Ryder, the richest of them all? Any way they looked at it, the success of the book was most gratifying.
The judge puffed heavily at his pipe and merely shook his head, making no reply. Stott explained: "We can't look for help from that quarter, Shirley. You don't expect a man to cut loose his own kite, do you?" "What do you mean?" demanded Shirley, mystified. "Simply this that John Burkett Ryder is the very man who is responsible for all your father's misfortunes."
Where was poor Jerry, though? Again Silas dived, and brought him to the surface, handing him up near me. Mr Kilby and Mr Burkett were clinging on to the gunwale, and now they all climbed up; and there we sat, our lives for the moment preserved, but with very grave apprehensions as to what should become of us.
"Do you know what that is?" said Mr Burkett, giving it a blow with the butt end of his gun, which broke the moss to pieces as if it had been a huge toadstool. The mossy coat was an inch and a half in thickness, and the whole interior appeared filled with wide-spreading miniature fir-trees.
But John Burkett Ryder never rested. There could be no rest for any man who had a thousand millions of dollars to take care of. Like Macbeth, he could sleep no more. When the hum of business life had ceased down town and he returned home from the tall building in lower Broadway, then his real work began.
Then with a deferential smile he added: "Mr. Ryder usually arrives on the stroke, sir." The senator gave a nod of acquiescence and, turning on his heel, greeted with a grasp of the hand and affable smile his fellow-directors as they passed in by twos and threes. Senator Roberts was in the world of politics what his friend John Burkett Ryder was in the world of finance a leader of men.
The "interests" feared him, resented his judicial decisions and they had halted at nothing to accomplish their purpose. How could he fight them back, what could he do to protect himself? He had no proofs of a conspiracy, his enemies worked in the dark, there was no way in which he could reach them or know who they were. He thought of John Burkett Ryder. Ah, he remembered now.
The galley slave led a life of luxurious ease compared with John Burkett Ryder.
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