as without scruple at any time.

"She's got back all right, and she's succeeded far better than you
hoped. Better than she hoped herself. But--no better than I expected."

The other's eyes snapped under the quiet satisfaction of the man's
reply.

"Ah, she has. Does she say--yes?"

Elas shook his dark head.

"No. She's coming right over to tell me the whole story."

"Now?"

"In a while."

Elas Peterman knew his position to the last fraction when dealing with
Nathaniel Hellbeam. He knew it was for him to obey, almost without
question. But somehow, for the moment, his Teutonic self-abnegation had
become obscured. He was yielding nothing in the matter of this woman to
anyone. Not even to Nathaniel Hellbeam whom he regarded almost as the
master of his destiny.

Perhaps the gross nature of the financier possessed a certain sympathy.
Perhaps even there was a lurking sense of honour in him, where a woman,
whom he regarded as another man's property, was concerned. Again it may
simply have been that he understood the other's reticence, and it suited
him for the moment to restrain his grosser inclinations. He laughed. And
it was not an hilarious effort.

"Oh, yes," he said. "You will see her first. That is as it should be.
Later, we both will talk with her. Well--good luck my friend."

Hellbeam thrust his hat on his great head and strutted his way across to
the door.

"These people must be bought. Or--" he said, pausing before passing
out--

"Smashed!"

Hellbeam nodded.

"It suits me better to--buy."

"Yes. You want to come into touch with--the owner."

"Yes."

The gross figure disappeared through the doorway.

Peterman did not return to his desk. He crossed to the window and stood
gazing out of it. His hands were thrust deep into his pockets. And his
fingers moved nervously, rattling the contents of them. He was a goodly
specimen of manhood. He was tall, and squarely erect, and carried
himself with that military bearing which seems to belong to all the
races of Teutonic origin. It was only in the study of the man's face
that exception could be taken. Just now there was none to observe and he
was free from all restraint.

His dark eyes were smiling, for his thoughts were streaming along the
channel that most appealed. He was thinking of the beauty of the girl
who was about to return to him, and it seemed to him a pity she was so
simply honest, so very young in the world as he understood it. Then her
am