It would be, without doubt, by some person
or persons who resented the brutality, the dishonesty, the foul
commercial methods of the company with which he was connected. An
amendment of those methods might produce his release."
"And that amendment?"
Wingate picked up a newspaper and glanced at it, pulled a heavy gold
pencil from his chain and made a few calculations.
"Your operations in wheat," he said, "have brought the loaf which should
cost the working man a matter of sevenpence up to two shillings. You seem
to have dabbled in a good many other products, too, the price of which
you have forced up into the clouds,--just those products which are
necessary to the working man. But we will leave those 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.
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