XI

Jan Steppe was an early riser. He was up at six; at seven o'clock he

was at his desk with the contents of the morning newspapers

completely digested. By the time most people were sleepily inquiring

the state of the weather, he had dealt with his correspondence and

had prepared his daily plan.

In view of his early departure from London he had cleared off such

arrears of work as there was. It was very little, for his method did

not admit of an accumulation of unsettled affairs. A man not easily

troubled, he had been of late considerably perturbed by the erratic

behavior of certain stocks. He had every reason to be satisfied on

the whole, because a miracle had happened. Klein River Diamonds had

soared to an unbelievable price. A new pipe had been discovered on

the property and the shares had jumped to one hundred and twelve,

which would have been a fortunate development for Dr. Merville who

once held a large parcel, had not Steppe purchased his entire holding

at fifteen. He did this before the news was made public that the

pipe had been located. Before Steppe himself knew--as he swore,

sitting within a yard of the code telegram from his South African

agent that had brought him the news twenty-four hours before it was

published. So that the doctor was in this position: he owed money to

Steppe for shares which had made Steppe a profit.

Ronnie had had a large holding. He was deputy chairman of the

company. The day following the execution of Ambrose Sault, Steppe

sent him a peremptory note enclosing a transfer and a cheque. Ronnie

put cheque and transfer away in a drawer and did not read the letter.

For some extraordinary reason on that day he could not read easily.

Letters frightened him and he had to summon all his will power to

examine them. Nearly a week passed before he got over this strange

repugnance to the written word.

In the meantime Jan Steppe had not seen his lieutenant. He never

doubted that the transfer, signed and sealed, was registered in the

books of the company. Ronnie was obedient: had signed transfers by

the score without question.

On this morning of March, Mr. Steppe was delayed in the conduct of

his business by the tardy arrival of the mail. There had been a

heavy fog in the early hours and letter distribution had been

delayed, so that it was well after half-past eight before the mail

came to him.

Almost the first letter he opened was one from the secretary of Klein

River. He read and growled. The writer was sorry that he could not

carry out the definite instructions which he had received.

Apparently Mr. Steppe was under a misapprehension. No shares held by

Mr. Morelle had been transferred. There was a postscript in the

secretary's handwriting:

"I have reason to believe that Mr. Morelle has been selling your

stocks very heavily. He is certainly the principal operator in the

attack upon Midwell Tractions which you complained about yesterday."

Jan Steppe, dropping the letter, pushed his chair back from the desk.

A thousand shares in Klein River were at issue, he could not afford

to tear bullheaded at Ronnie Morelle. So this was the bear--the

seller of stock! Ronnie had done something like this before, and had

been warned. Steppe let his fury cool before he got Merville on the

wire. When, in answer to the summons, Merville arrived, Steppe was

pacing the floor, his hands deep in his trousers pockets.

"Huh, Merville? Seen Ronald Morelle lately?"

"No: he hasn't been to the house for a very long time."

"Hasn't, huh? Like him?"

The doctor hesitated.

"Not particularly: he is a distant cousin of mine. You know that."

Steppe nodded. He was holding himself in check and the effort was a

strain.

"He's selling Midwell Tractions: you know that?" he mimicked

savagely. "I'll break him, Merville! Smash him! The cur, the

crafty cur!"

He gained the upper hand of his tumultuous rage after a while.

"That doesn't matter. But I sent him a cheque and a transfer--one

minute!"

He seized the telephone and shouted a number.

"Yes, Steppe. Has a cheque been passed through payable to Ronald

Morelle--I'll give you the number if you wait."

He jerked out a drawer, found the stub of a cheque book and turned

the counterfoil.

"There? March seventeenth. Cheque number L.V. 971842."

He waited at the telephone, scowling absentmindedly at the doctor.

"Huh? It hasn't been presented--all right."

He smashed the receiver down on the hook.

"If he had paid in the cheque I would have got him--the swine! But

he hasn't. I sent orders to transfer his Klein Rivers. I thought I

was doing him a good turn--just as I thought I was doing one for you,

Merville."

"And he refused to allow you to make the sacrifice," said the doctor

drily.

"I don't like that kind of talk, Merville," Steppe's face was dark

with anger. "I want you to come with me. I'm going to see

this--this thing. And I'm going to get the transfer! Make no

mistake about that! Call up the filthy hound and tell him you are

coming round. Don't mention me. It will give him a chance of

getting rid of his women."

He listened to the telephone conversation that followed.

"What was he saying?"

"He asked me if there was anything wrong. It struck me that he was

anxious--he asked me twice."

"That fellow has an instinct for trouble," said Steppe.

Ronnie was dressed, which was unusual for him, at this early hour.

And the doctor noticed, could hardly help noticing, that the library

was gay with flowers. This also was remarkable, for Ronnie disliked

to have flowers in a room. There were daffodils, _pierce-niege_,

bowls of violets, and through the open casement with its curtains

fluttering in the stiff breeze, Merville saw new window boxes ablaze

with tulips.

"You're admiring my flowers, Bertram," smiled Ronnie. "I had to buy

them ready-grown and the gentleman who owns the flat has misgivings

as to the wisdom of flower boxes--he thinks they may fall on to

somebody's head. Good morning, Steppe, you look happy."

Mr. Steppe was looking and feeling quite the reverse. He forced his

face into a contortion intended to be a smile.

"Good morning, Ronnie. I thought I'd come along and see you about

the transfer I sent to you. You forgot to fill it up."

"Did I?" Ronnie was genuinely surprised. "I remember I had a letter

from you--"

He took a heap of papers from a drawer and as he turned them over,

Steppe's eyes lit up.

"That's it," he said, and offhandedly, "put your name against the

seal."

Ronnie took up a pen--and paused.

"I am transferring a thousand shares in the Klein River Diamond

Mining Corporation--at twelve. They are worth more than that surely?

I thought I saw them quoted at a hundred and something?"

"They were twelve when I sent you the transfer," said Steppe.

"Why did you send it? I don't remember expressing a wish to sell."

Here Steppe made a fatal mistake. He had but to say, "You agreed to

sell," and Ronnie would have signed. There were some incidents in

his past life that he could not remember. But the temper of the big

man got the better of him.

"You're not expected to ask!" he roared, bringing his big fist down

on the table with a crash. "You're expected to do as you're told!

Get that, Morelle! I sent you the transfer and a cheque--"

"This must be the cheque," said Ronnie. He looked at the oblong slip

and tore it into four pieces before he dropped the scraps into the

waste basket.

Steppe was purple with rage, inarticulate.

Then the transfer followed the cheque.

"Don't let us have a scene," said Dr. Merville nervously. "You must

meet Steppe in this, Ronnie."

"I'll meet him with pleasure. I have a thousand shares apparently;

he wants them--good! He can pay me the market price."

"You dog!" howled Steppe, his face thrust across the table until it

was within a few inches of Ronnie's, "you damned swindler! You're

going straight to the office of the Klein River Company and sign

another transfer. D'ye hear?"

"How could I not hear," said Ronnie, getting up, "as to signing the

transfer, I will do so, on terms--if you are civil."

"If I'm civil, huh? If I'm civil! I'll break you, Morelle! I'll

break you! There's a little document in my safe that would get you

five years. That makes you look foolish!"

"Take it out of your safe," said Ronnie coolly, "which I understand

the police have. They will be glad to see it opened. I could open

it myself if--if I could only remember. I've tried. When I saw a

paragraph in the paper about Moropulos, it made me shiver--because I

knew I could open the safe. I sat up all one night trying to get the

word."

"You're a liar--the same damned liar that you've always been! I want

that transfer, Morelle. I'm through with you--after your appearance

in the police court. You're a damned fine asset to a company! You

and your Lola! You will resign from the board of my companies. Get

that! And whilst I'm dealing with you, I'd like to tell you that if

you attack my stocks, I'll attack you in a way that will make hell a

cosy corner, huh?"

His hand shot out and he gripped Ronnie.

"Come here--you! D'ye hear me. I'll--"

Ronnie took the hand that grasped his collar and pried loose the

fingers; he did this without apparent effort. The fingers had to

release their hold or be broken. Then with a twist of his wrist he

flung the hand away.

"Don't do that, please," he said calmly.

Steppe stood panting, grimacing--afraid. Merville felt the fear

before he saw its evidence.

"How did you do that?" panted Steppe. It was the resentful curiosity

of the beaten animal.

Ronnie opened his mouth and laughed long and joyously. He was,

thought the doctor, like a boy conjuror who had mystified his elders

and was enjoying the joke of it. Then, without warning, he became

serious again and pressed a bell on his table.

"François, open the door--must you go, Bertram? I wanted to see you

rather pressingly. Steppe can find his way home, can't you, Steppe?

One can't imagine him getting lost--and he can ask a policeman."

"I'll settle with you later, Morelle. Come on, Merville."

The doctor vacillated.

"Come on!" roared Steppe.

"I'll see you this afternoon. I have an engagement now."

Merville went hastily after the big man. Ronnie followed, overtaking

them as they were getting into the elevator.

"Will you tell Beryl that I am coming to see her tonight?"

"She'll not see you!" exploded Steppe, "no decent woman would see

you--"

"What an ape you are!" said Ronnie reproachfully, "don't you realize

that I'm not talking to you?"