"
"Let me," Wingate suggested, "give you my impression as to the
disappearance of three of your directors."
"It would be very interesting," Harrison murmured, his eyes following the
hopeless efforts of a huge fly to escape through the closed window.
"I picture them to myself," his visitor went on, "as indulging in a
secret tour through the north of England---a tour undertaken in order
that they may realise personally whether their tactics have really
produced the suffering and distress reported."
"Ah!"
"I picture them convinced. I ask myself what would be their natural
course of action. Without a doubt, they would sell wheat."
"Sell wheat" Harrison repeated. "Yes!"
"They would be in a hurry," Wingate continued. "They would not wish to
waste a moment. They would probably telephone their instructions."
From the great office outside came the hum of many voices, the shrill
summons of many telephones, a continued knocking and shouting at the
locked door. To all these sounds Harrison remained stoically indifferent.
He was studying once more the pattern of the carpet.
"Telephone," he repeated thoughtfully.
"It would be sufficient, if you recognized the voice?"
"Confirmation--from a fellow director, I might have to ask for,"
Harrison decided.
"Nothing else?"
"Nothing!"
"And how long would it take you to sell, say--"
"I should prefer not to have quantities mentioned," Harrison
interrupted.
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