Bennet Gage was a conspicuously able member of his race. Every pore of
his body, every cell in his brain seemed to lust after “impressions.”
He lived with his ear to the ground, listening to the pulse of the
time. The price in the market of everything was filed for reference in
a prehensile mind; the rate per ton for pig iron f. o. b. Sunderland,
the exchange on Christiania, or the value of an early Degas, Mr. Gage
could tell you offhand. And the information would be the soundest
obtainable. Moreover, a man of judgment, Saul Hartz, who was almost
incapable of a mistake in such matters, had a great belief in him. From
the beginning he had been one of the directing minds at the back of the
portentous organization whose secret aim was to dominate the world.
“Well, Gage,” was the cheerful greeting of the Colossus, “all the
morning journals have sung together.”
“I hope, sir, you admired the _Planet_ leader.” The deference of Mr.
Gage was touched ever so lightly with humor.
With odd unexpectedness the Colossus loosed a sudden roar that almost
shook Cosmos Alley to its foundations. “My compliments to dear old
Dalling. He’s quite on his top notch this morning. A full four-ounce
packet of desiccated Pecksniff. Enough to turn the stomach of a horse!”
“Is to-day’s meeting at Hellington to be reported?”
“If he is able to hold it, no,” was the prompt answer. “If he is not
able to hold it, yes.”
“And the book? Are we to review it?”
“No. By the way, who are the publishers?”
“Burberry and Walker.”
“Refuse all their advertisements until further notice. Who is
publishing it in New York?”
“Ireson.”
“When?”
“The tenth of next month.”
“They had better be stopped. I suppose they can be.”
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Gage’s nod was conclusive. “Ireson is on the red list,
fortunately.”
“What an egotistical ass this fellow Endor must be.” The voice of Saul
Hartz had declined suddenly to a whisper. “However, this young man is
not the first dweller in fairyland who has committed hari-kari.”
With a stealthy smile Mr. Gage agreed.
“So much for that--for the moment,” said the Chief, with a little purr
of satisfaction. “Now, for more important things. What are we featuring
to-night?”
“The attack on the British Consul at Peking.”
The Colossus pursed his lips.
“Must we issue an ultimatum to the Chinese Government?”
“Yes. Give them forty-eight hours to apologize, or take the
consequences.”
“They’ll apologize, of course.”
“I’m afraid so, poor brutes! Still, as I told the P. M. last night, it
all helps to keep the pot simmering. And sooner or later dear old man
Chink will have to be put to it. The trouble is, you see, that Brother
Jap will be at the poor old gentleman even if we consent to keep our
fingers off him.”
Mr. Gage saw that.
“Any particular news this morning?”
The question was lightly asked but before it was answered the face of
Bennet Gage became perceptibly older. A look of strain came into a
curiously somber face, as he said, “Did you know that Garland is dead?”
“Dead! William Garland!” It was clear that, for a moment, even the
Colossus was taken aback. “Why, I was in his company last evening
at dinner at Rockingham House. We had a most interesting, a most
informative chat about labor conditions all over the world. He was
leaving here on Friday for Australia.”
“Then he may have arrived already,” said Mr. Gage succinctly. “At
all events, about half past eleven last night, as he entered the
Cosmopolitan vestibule, he fell down dead.”
Saul Hartz was visibly startled. He pursed his lips for a whistle that
did not come. “About half past eleven, you say, in the Cosmopolitan
vestibule? Why, an hour before I was talking with him in Park Lane,
when he was as hale and cheery as you please.”
“Yes, it’s all very mysterious,” said Mr. Gage, solemnly.
It was clear that Saul Hartz was greatly impressed by this piece of
news. There was no longer a trace of lightness in his manner when
he said abruptly, after a slight pause: “There’ll be an inquest, of
course?”
“Oh, yes. The police have already taken charge of the body. But they
are extraordinarily reticent.”
“They suspect foul play?”
“There seems absolutely nothing to be got out of Scotland Yard.
Verity’s with them now.”
The Colossus frowned. He produced from his waistcoat pocket a toothpick
and began to chew it viciously. “We probably know quite as much as they
do, or very likely more. But Verity can be trusted, I hope, not to give
them cold feet.”
“From what he says--he went down to Whitehall before breakfast--they’ve
got cold feet already.”
“Oh, they have!” Saul Hartz grew reflective. “Then, in this case, they
seem rather more up to time than usual. The fact is, Gage, it’s no use
disguising that this affair wears a particularly ugly look.”
“That, undoubtedly, is Scotland Yard’s opinion.”
“What do they surmise to be the cause of death?”
“Verity can’t get a word out of them.”
Saul Hartz threw up his head sharply. “Very well, see that they don’t
get a word out of us. That’s a game for two and we’re in a position to
play it as well as most people.”
“Judging by the temperature in Whitehall at eight o’clock this morning,
Verity is inclined to think they can tell us more than we can tell
them. At any rate, we are warned to go slow.”
“_Warned_ to go slow! What do you mean, Gage?”
“We are to be specially careful how we treat the news so that it may
not conflict with the public interest.”
“Oh, be damned to that!” The eyes of the Colossus blazed arrogantly.
“We shall treat the news as we please. I wonder if they think we are
going to take dictation from a pack of old women.”
Mr. Gage looked rather dubious.
“By the way,” said Saul Hartz, in the sharp crackling tones that were
used only on great occasions, “have you spoken to New York? It’s
possible they know a little more than anybody at the moment.”
“Oh, yes, Barrington rang them up as soon as the news came in.”
“Quite right. Bright fellow that. I hope he got Manvile Lewis himself.”
“Yes--Manvile Lewis. He didn’t think it wise to discuss it with any one
else.”
“Just so. Had their end anything to tell us?”
“Only that Garland had been warned before he left New York last
Tuesday that he would not be allowed to proceed to Australia.”
“We could have told them that. By the way, I wonder if they know that
in Whitehall?”
“Verity suspects so, but he’s not sure.”
“He’s right, no doubt.” Saul Hartz spoke keenly. “And that’s their
reason for making all this fuss. Do you suppose they are up in those
other two cases?”
“Kornichef and Yamotoga?”
“Yes.”
“Verity thinks they must be. He didn’t ask the question but he gave
Scotland Yard every opportunity to bring them into the picture. But
there was nothing to be got out of it.”
“No, I expect not,” said the Colossus, impatiently. “However, this
thing looks pretty ugly to me.”
Mr. Gage agreed.
The silence which followed was rather embarrassing for the editor of
the _Planet_. Instinctively, he knew one, at least, of the thoughts
that was already in possession of the Chief’s mind. For one so expert
in the signs as Bennet Gage the face of the man before him was easy to
read. As the Colossus sat now at his writing table with eyes shrouded,
lips locked like a trap and the tips of his fingers pressed together,
he seemed to exude a growing pugnacity. Scotland Yard might be tempted
to take this dark thing lying down, but it was not in Saul Hartz’s
nature to take anything lying down.
“Gage!” The curious whisper broke the silence at last. “We must go into
this. We must go into this fully.”
The cock of the editor’s head implied rather than expressed a mild
dissent. He did not venture upon anything more explicit. It was no
use opposing Saul Hartz. One might as well oppose Niagara. Amenable
to argument he might be up to a point, but he was a man of volcanic
will who owed almost everything to an unrivaled intuition. He had a
first-rate mind for affairs, but it was not by taking the advice of
others that he had won a unique place in the world.
“Big issues here!” The formidable jowl had unfurled itself from a
capacious collar, the brooding eyes had disclosed their fires.
“Yes, I grant that.” A slight tremor in Mr. Gage’s voice told more than
his words. “But it seems to me, if I may be allowed to say so----”
“Go on!” The words were impatient. “You know that in this room you can
say anything.”
“Well, sir, I would like to say this: It seems to me that you of all
men should keep off the grass.”
Mr. Gage did not underrate his own prescience, and he knew that
Saul Hartz did not underrate it either. But as the editor of the
_Planet_ uttered these significant words, he had the look of a man who
anticipates an explosion. In this, he was not disappointed. But the
explosion, when it came, was less devastating than he had feared.
“Oh, be damned to that, Gage!” The Chief brought his fist down solidly
upon the table at which he sat. “We don’t allow ourselves here to be
intimidated by anything or anybody.”
“Quite!” The assent was a little uneasy. “But knowing what we do,
knowing what is behind all this, is it altogether politic...?”
“Politic!”
“To take such risks--particularly when they are unnecessary.”
“We shall not agree that the risks are unnecessary. It’s our clear duty
to keep the police--or why not say the Government?--up to the collar.”
The editor of the _Planet_ cordially agreed, but in the choice of the
words which followed he showed great care. “I do feel very strongly,”
he said, “that faced as we are with two evils, it is our duty to choose
the less. The police have asked us to walk delicately, and I really
think we ought to do so.”
“Why?”
“In the public interest.”
The laugh of the Colossus was derisive. “In other words, Bennet Gage
finds life too agreeable to endanger it lightly.”
That went to the root of the matter, no doubt. But Mr. Hartz softened
the thrust a little by offering his cigar case with the air of a good
fellow which he had the valuable faculty of assuming on all occasions.
As he chose a cigar for himself, he became the soul of geniality, but
Mr. Gage who knew him only too well was not able to respond.
“Why, you are worse than those duds at Scotland Yard, my friend.” The
gayety, if not exactly forced, did not seem altogether spontaneous. “If
you like, I’ll make you a present of a pair of snowboots lined with
fur. They are the only things for your complaint. And I hear you can
get bedsocks at a reasonable price at Selfridge’s white sale.”
The Chief lit his cigar. Suddenly he began to smoke furiously. Mr.
Gage, who had declined a cigar, indulged in odd, nervous little fumbles
with his hands.
“The _Planet_ must take a strong line to-morrow.” Saul Hartz’s tone
was plenary. “Report the inquest fully. Have all the known facts in
this case and the other two cases got up carefully, and embody them in
a series of articles, to synchronize with the inquest. _The Murder of
William Garland_ will make a good caption. Norton or Lewis--I think
perhaps Norton had better write it. Let him come to me in half an hour
and I’ll give him my ideas on the subject.”
Dismissal was in the tone. Saul Hartz had no punctilio with the men he
employed, no matter how eminent they might be in their own sphere. Even
if he did not parade the fact that he was the most important person in
the western hemisphere, he liked it clearly to be understood in all
matters of domestic administration that his whim was law.
Bennet Gage was frankly distressed. His regard for the Chief was akin
to idolatry, but this was a matter on which he felt bound to hold his
ground. It was due to them both that he should do so. But it was far
from the habit of the Colossus to take advice and the knowledge of this
fact often embarrassed those who had to deal with him.
“Must we go into this matter at once?” The question was more tentative
than was warranted by Mr. Gage’s state of mind, but to come out into
the open would be fatal.
“The sooner the better. Marshal all the facts. We have to take a strong
line here.”
“But the ‘murder’ of William Garland.” Such a nudity of phrase was
altogether too much for Bennet Gage. “Even if our information justifies
that and even if it is the finding of the Coroner’s jury--and one can’t
believe for a moment that it will be--is it right?--is it in the public
interest to run counter to the police?”
“Is it in the public interest to cover up their incompetence? that is
the question we have to ask ourselves.”
Mr. Gage shook a deferential head. “Not so much their incompetence, it
seems to me, as their limitations.”
“A distinction without a difference, my friend.”
“With all respect, I don’t agree. There is reason to believe that they
know more than we do. And they have come to the conclusion that they
are powerless.”
“A conclusion wholly puerile and discreditable.”
“Upon that I offer no opinion. But you remember what Verity said on his
return from Tokyo?”
“Yes; and you remember what I said to Verity?”
“I do. But if I may say so, in this business Verity is the man on the
spot. And he is most anxious that we should accept guidance in the
matter.”
Saul Hartz laughed harshly. “The sooner daylight is let into the whole
thing, the better--that’s my view.”
The look of trouble deepened in the editor’s face. “May I ask you not
to forget that the police are up against the stiffest proposition they
have ever had to tackle?”
“Why have you turned devil’s advocate, Gage?” Saul Hartz’s tone was
sharply impatient.
“On public grounds,” was the reluctant answer.
“Why, you are as bad as those old women in Whitehall.”
“But look what has happened within a year. Three clear cases. One in
Tokyo, one in New York, and now one in London. In each case a warning,
a disregard of the warning, followed in one instance by a mysterious
disappearance, and in the other two by an even more mysterious death.”
“Well, no matter what Scotland Yard may say or what it may do, we, at
any rate, shall not allow ourselves to be frightened by any kind of fee
faw fum.”
Mr. Gage shook his head. “This terrible affair,” he said weightily,
“amply confirms the opinion I have ventured already to express to you
that the police are up against the most powerful and certainly the
most sinister force in the world to-day.”
The Chief was frankly annoyed. “Nonsense! I refuse to believe anything
of the kind. And in any event, no matter what its power, we are going
to fight it. Tell Norton to come to me in half an hour.”
The keenly intelligent face of Bennet Gage clouded heavily. With the
look of a man who staggers under a blow, he went to the door. But as he
got there, he changed his mind. Turning suddenly, he came back several
paces into the room. “It’s no use, sir.” The voice was full of pain.
“I know it’s a subject on which you won’t listen to advice. But it’s
one also in which I feel I must obey my deepest instinct. Frankly, I
haven’t your courage. So that if you have fully made up your mind to
disregard these warnings, I must ask you to announce in to-morrow’s
_Planet_ that I am no longer its editor.”