The Profiteers

"Throw your coat down anywhere, Miss Baldwin," Wingate invited, as he ushered that young lady into his rooms soon after eleven o'clock on the following evening. "Now what can I...

Andrew Slate, a very personable man in his spring clothes of grey tweed, took up his hat and prepared to depart. Half-past twelve had just struck by Wingate's clock, and the two...

Josephine was herself again within a few moments of her husband's departure. She stood perfectly still for some time, as though listening to his departing footsteps. Then she cr...

"Nothing definite. I've been studying their methods for some time. What they've been trying to do practically is to corner wheat. No one has ever succeeded in doing it yet. I do...

The Marchioness of Amesbury was giving a garden party in the spacious but somewhat urban grounds of her mansion in Kensington. Perhaps because it was the first affair of its sor...

Josephine received her altogether unexpected visitor that afternoon with a certain amount of trepidation, mingled with considerable distaste. Mr. Peter Phipps' manner, however,...

Josephine Dredlinton, with a smile which gave to her face a singularly sweet expression, deprecated the disturbance which her coming had caused amongst the little company. The f...

Dredlinton sank into Phipps' vacated chair and leaned back with his hands in his trousers pockets. He had the air of a man fortified by a certain amount of bravado,--stimulated...

"I am sorry to say," Wingate informed him gravely, "that a very terrible thing has happened. Lord Dredlinton died suddenly in this room, only a few minutes ago. His body is upon...

Josephine turned in her chair and contemplated the latter with some interest. He was quietly dressed in well-cut but unobtrusive clothes. His long, narrow face had features of s...

"My dears," Lady Amesbury said, as she stood surrounded by her guests on the hearth rug of her drawing-room, "you know what my Sunday night dinner parties are--all sorts and ple...

Wingate returned to his rooms at the Milan about eleven o'clock that evening, to find Roger Kendrick, Maurice White and the Honourable Jimmy Wilshaw stretched out in his most co...

Wingate, notwithstanding his iron nerve, awoke with a start, in the grey of the following morning, to find his heart pounding against his ribs and a chill sense of horror steali...

Dredlinton House, before which Wingate presented himself punctually at eight o'clock that evening, had a sombre, almost a deserted appearance. The great bell which he pealed see...

Peter Phipps, sitting in his private office, might have served as the very prototype of a genial, shrewd and successful business man. The apartment was plainly and handsomely fu...

Wingate, after several strenuous hours spent in Slate's office, returned to his rooms late that night, to find Peter Phipps awaiting him. There was something vaguely threatening...

Wingate made his way from the City to Shaftesbury Avenue, where he entered a block of offices, studied the direction board on the wall for a few minutes, and finally took the li...

"Another strange face," Sarah remarked, looking after the butler who had just brought in the coffee. "I thought you were one of those women, Josephine, who always kept their ser...

Wingate from the first had a prescience of disagreeable things. There was malice in Dredlinton's pallid face, the ugly twist of his lips and the light in his bloodshot eyes. He...

"Delighted to see you, Mr. Wingate," he said heartily. "Take a chair, please. I do not know whether you smoke in the mornings, but these Cabanas," he added, opening the box, "ar...

There was a little flutter of excitement in the offices of Messrs. Kendrick, Stone, Morgan and Company when, at a few minutes after eleven the following morning, Wingate descend...

"I fear" the newcomer remarked, as he softly closed the door behind him, "that I am an intruder. Perhaps, Josephine, I may be favoured with an introduction to this gentleman? He...

In the Board room of the British and Imperial Granaries, Limited, were four vacant chairs and four unoccupied desks, each of the latter piled with a mass of letters. Outside was...

Peter Phipps and his nephew dined together on the last night of the year at a well-chosen table at Giro's restaurant in Monte Carlo. There were long-necked and gold-foiled bottl...