They were faces every newspaper reader knew.
One was Ritter’s. The other three were the faces of the top three partners of the great financial house. And Josh had caught them at a moment when something of unusual import must have happened. For the three faces were twisted in an insanity of hate and anger.
The faces were brought so near by the little telescope that it seemed silly that Josh couldn’t hear the words spoken. But of course he couldn’t. He could just see lips writhe and twist in furious words tossed from partner to partner, but he could hear not one syllable.
Ritter simply sat there, in the big office, looking distressed. Now and then, he opened his mouth to speak, as though he would say something to calm the three down. But he didn’t get a chance to put in any words.
He read enough of one sentence to gather that it was a hot accusation of chiseling thrown by one partner at another. He gathered that the other made a furious offer to buy up the first man’s share of the business so that he could get out if he didn’t like the way it was ran. Then the third partner’s lips moved in words so menacing that Josh hated to believe he had read them right.
It seemed that this third one, the most powerful of the lot, was threatening to split the firm wide open and drive the other two out and to hell with them.
At this point, Ritter got up, said a few words resignedly and left. So Josh had to leave, too, almost holding his breath over that third partner’s speech.
He couldn’t have gotten that right! It wasn’t possible!
Civil war in this vast institution that controlled billions of dollars in money and physical assets? Why, that would crack the nation’s whole financial structure to bitter fragments! It would produce a panic on the Exchange; alter the economic structure of the land almost as drastically as real war itself could alter it.
Ritter came out the doorway of the Palmer Building, and Josh slid from the door across the street. Josh felt murder stir in his heart as he saw that a little smile was on the politician’s lips.
Ritter had caused that vital conflict in there. He had gone to the Palmer Building only to make trouble. And he had succeeded. Several million people would be unemployed, thousands of small companies would go broke, great hardship would be suffered, because of this gently smiling, handsome man who would be president.
The combination of a hellish drug and a ruthless monster of ambition was shaping into the worst scourge the United States had ever suffered from. For there was no doubt the drug had subtly been used back there. In no other way could the terrible quarrel between partners, each of whom in sane moments knew the awful results of such a fight, have been caused. The financial leaders were under the influence of Morel’s drug.
Josh trailed Ritter from the financial district, up along Manhattan Island, and out the Henry Hudson Parkway to Ritter’s estate on the river. And there, at a window, Josh got a brief glimpse of a face that set him urgently to contacting The Avenger on his belt radio.
“Ritter’s at his Hudson River place,” he reported. He told grimly of the happening at the Palmer Building. Then he finished, “I just saw Morel up here, Mr. Benson.”
“Morel? You’re sure?”
“Yes, quite sure,” said Josh. “I only got one look, but it was a clear one. It’s Morel. Looks as if he is in with this mob, no matter what his daughter may say about it. I guess he wasn’t kidnaped. I think he was approached with promises of great power by this bunch of political killers and accepted their offer.”
There was silence from The Avenger’s end. And Josh could understand it perfectly. He surmised what Dick Benson was thinking.
The most dangerous person on earth is a brilliant scientist turned criminal. And here they had one of these menaces in the shape of the eminent Arthur Morel!
CHAPTER XIV
The “Peacemaker”
The newspapers had been running first-page stories of the disastrous fight in the motor industry. The price war had spread till it was no longer confined between the Fox 8, and the Ainslee Speed-Flow. All the big companies had announced ruinous prices and policies.
But this morning the headlines were different — and joyful.
Most of the headlines read:
RITTER ENDS AUTOMOTIVE WAR
And the following accounts in all the papers were almost word for word:
Edwin C. Ritter, drawn and tired from a night spent with the heads of the motor industry, announced this morning that peace had finally been made. The new prices and policies will not go into effect. Prices had been announced which would shortly have disorganized the entire industry, but Ritter after an all-night session, persuaded the industrial heads to return to the old policies. When questioned, Ritter minimized his own part in the peace making; but it was evident that he, and he alone, was responsible.
There was a long eulogy. Ritter, the man of the hour! Single-handed, he had straightened out a tangle that the bankers, the president of the United States, and the heads of the labor unions had been unable to do anything with. The one man in America able to perform such a miracle!
It was repeated that this wonderman was a presidential candidate, and all the papers did more than hint that a man capable of performing such miracles was the type of man who would look well in the White House.
“They’ve got him practically elected right now,” said Smitty disgustedly. “Wonderman, huh. Well, I will say he’s smart. We’ve never bumped up against anything like this before. But then, we’ve never seen a politically ambitious man backed by anybody like Morel before.”
Nellie tried to signal him to shut up. But she was too late. Lila had been coming in the door, and she had heard the giant. Instantly she was before him, cheeks flaming.
“My father isn’t ‘in on’ anything he shouldn’t be!” she flared. “He is a scientist. He isn’t personally ambitious at all. He lives only for science. Packer could tell you that.”
It was too late to pretend he hadn’t said anything; so Smitty shrugged and went on.
“He seems to be living for more than science right now. He was with the gang at that car barn, and he helped them get away. He was in Ritter’s Hudson River place, night before last; Josh saw him there. And he went with Ritter to a Vermont farm this morning. Josh reported in a few minutes ago, just before noon.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Lila defiantly. “Or, if he is with Ritter, he is being held forcibly.”
The Avenger had been staring out the window, pale eyes lambent and coldly flaming. He spoke without turning.
“I think we’d better see about it, right now. Cole, go with Lila to the Vermont place. If Morel is with this gang, as Josh reported, try to get him away from them. Bring him back here.”
“Right,” said Cole confidently. Wilson was always confident, and he had a right to be. Seemingly built out of steel cable and leather, almost as fast in action as The Avenger himself, Cole usually came home with what he went out to get.
“You know where the Vermont farm is?” said Dick.
Cole nodded.
“I placed it on the country map after Josh phoned.”
“All right, I’ll go with you,” said Lila. “But we won’t find my father mixed up with that bunch of killers. I know that.”
However, in the plane, she let her shoulders droop a little and became less sure. She talked more openly to Cole. Perhaps because he was very good-looking and was the kind any girl would like to talk to.
“Do you suppose it’s possible Dad is criminally involved?” she faltered.