Every person
under this roof is in my employ. There is no earthly chance of your being
heard by any one. Still, if it pleases you to shout, shout!--Now, Grant!"
The man unfastened the gags,--first Phipps', then Rees', and finally
Dredlinton's. Curiously enough, not one of the three men raised their
voices. Wingate's words seemed to have impressed them. Phipps drew one
or two deep breaths, Stanley Rees rubbed his mouth on his sleeve.
Dredlinton was the only one who broke into anything approaching
violent speech.
"My God, Wingate," he exclaimed, "if you think I'll ever forget this,
you're mistaken! I'll see you in prison for it, whatever it costs me!"
"The after-consequences of this little melodrama," Phipps interposed,
with grim fury, "certainly present something of a problem, I have
wondered, during the last hour or so, whether you can be perfectly sane,
Wingate. What good can you expect to do by this brigandage?"
"The very word 'brigandage'," Wingate observed, with a smile, "suggests
my answer--ransom."
"But you can't want money?" Phipps protested.
"You know what I want," was the stern rejoinder. "You and I have already
discussed it when you came to see me about that young man."
Phipps laughed uneasily.
"I remember some preposterous suggestion about selling wheat," he
admitted. "If you think, however, that you can alter our entire business
principles by a piece of foolery like this, you are making the mistake of
your life.
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