Part 4 (2/2)
The colour came and went in his face as he thought out the meaning of what his employer had just said. At length he answered: ”I owe you many thanks, sir. What do you want me to do?”
”Understand this: 300 a year is your starting salary. If I find you after trial to be the man I think you are, you can look forward to bigger money.... Now my point lies here; Mr Matheson was engaged with me in a large-scale enterprise. Alive, he would have been useful to me. I intend to keep him alive!”
CHAPTER V
THE FIRST MOVE IN THE GAME
At the great Leadenhall Street office of the s.h.i.+powner, an office which bore outside the simple sign--ostentatious in its simplicity--of ”Lars Larssen--s.h.i.+pping,” Arthur Dean had looked upon his employer from afar as some demi-G.o.d raised above other business men by mysterious gifts from heaven. A modern Midas with the power of turning what he touched to gold.
Now he was granted an intimate glimpse into the workings of his employer's mind that came to him as a positive revelation. Larssen's were no mysterious powers, but the powers that every man possessed worked at white heat and with an extraordinary swiftness and exact.i.tude.
The revelation did not sweep away the glamour; on the contrary, it increased it. Lars Larssen was a craftsman taking up the commonest tools of his craft and using them to create a work of art of consummate build.
His present work was to keep alive the personality of Clifford Matheson until the Hudson Bay scheme should be launched. To use Matheson's name on the prospectus, and to use his influence with Sir Francis Letchmere and others. Dead, Matheson was to serve him better than alive.
But the s.h.i.+powner did not build his edifice on the foundation merely of what Arthur Dean had told him. He had to satisfy himself more accurately.
A string of rapid, apparently unconnected orders almost bewildered the young secretary:--
”First, get a list of the big hotels at Monte Carlo. Engage the trunk telephone and call up each hotel until you find where Sir Francis Letchmere is staying. Give no name.... Buy a pair of workman's boots to fit you. Get them in some side street shop. Bring them with you--don't ask them to send.... Take this typewriting”--he took a letter from his pocket and carefully clipped off a small portion--”and match it with a portable travelling machine. Can you recognize the make of machine off-hand?”
Dean examined the portion of typed matter, and shook his head.
”You must train yourself to observe detail. Looks to me like the type on a 'Thor' machine. Try the Thor Co. first. If not there, go to every typewriter firm in Paris until it matches.... Go to the offices of the Compagnie Transatlantique and get a list of sailings on the Cherbourg-Quebec route. Give no name.... Meanwhile, 'phone your journalist friend and have him call on me.”
”What reason shall I give him, sir?”
”Anything that will pull him here. Tell him I'm willing to be interviewed on the proposed international agreement about maritime contraband in time of war. Quite sure you remember all my orders?”
”I think so, sir.”
”Repeat them.”
The young man did so.
”Good!”
Dean flushed with pleasure at the commendation.
”Had lunch yet?”
”Not yet.”
Lars Larssen smiled as he said: ”Well, postpone lunch till to-night, or eat while you're hustling around in cabs. This is a hurry case. Here's an advance fifty pounds to keep you in expense money.”
As the crisp notes were put into his hand, Arthur Dean felt that he was indeed on the ladder which led to business status and wealth. His thoughts went out to a little girl in Streatham who was waiting, he knew, till he could ask her to be his wife. If Daisy could see how he was being taken into his employer's confidence!
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