hose alone, if you were
to sell wheat at forty-five per cent less than to-day's price, I should
think it extremely likely that Stanley Rees would be able to dine with
you to-morrow night."

"You are talking like a madman," Phipps declared. "It would mean ruin."

"How sad!" Wingate murmured. "All the same, I do not think that you will
see your nephew again until you have sold wheat."

"You admit that you are responsible, then?" Phipps growled.

"I admit nothing of the sort. I am simply speculating as to the possible
cause of his disappearance. If I had anything to do with it, those would
be my terms. To-morrow they might be the same; perhaps the next day.
But," he went on, with a sudden almost fierce break in his voice, "the
day after would probably be too late. There are a great many hungry
people in the north. There are a great many who are starving. There is
one in London who is beginning to feel the pangs."

"You are ill-treating him!" Phipps cried passionately. "I shall go to
Scotland Yard myself! I shall tell them what you have said. I shall
denounce you!"

"My dear fellow," Wingate scoffed, "you have done that already. You have
induced those very excellent upholders of English law and liberty to set
a plain-clothes man to following me about. I can assure you that he has
had a very pleasant and a very busy evening."

Phipps rose to his feet.

"Wingate," he exclaimed, "curse you!"

"A very natural sentiment. I hope that you may repeat it a good many
times before the end comes."

"You are a conspirator--a criminal!" Phipps continued, his voice shaking
with excitement. "You are breaking the laws of the country. I shall see
that you are in gaol before the week is out!"

"A good deal of what you say is true," Wingate admitted, "with the
possible exception of the latter part. Believe me, Peter Phipps, you are
a great deal more likely to see the inside of a prison than I am. You
will be a poor man presently and poor men of your type are desperate."

Phipps remained perfectly silent for several moments.

"Wingate, you are a hard enemy," he said at last. "Will you treat?"

"I have named the price."

"You are a fool!" Phipps almost shouted. "Do you know," he went on,
striking the table with his clenched fist, "that what you suggest would
cost five million pounds?"

"You and your friends can stand it," was the unruffled reply. "If not,
your brokers can share the loss."

"That means you make a bankrupt of