“What in the hell do I pay you for?” he cried brutally, lapsing, in his anger, into that gutteral Teutonic accent which it was his life’s object to avoid.  “A wild cat’s scheme it was I tell you from the first.  You go to this Sachigo with your men.  You think to get this ‘sharp’ asleep, or what?  You find him wide awake waiting for you to arrive.  What then?  He jumps quick.  So quick you can’t think.  You a prisoner are.  You go where he sends you.  You live like a swine in the woods.  You are made to work for your food.  And a year is gone.  A year!  Serve you darn right.  Oh, yes.  Bah!  You quit.  You understand?  I pay you no more.  You are a fool, a blundering fool.  I wash my hands with you.”

Idepski sat still, patient, as once before he had sat under the whip lash of a man’s tongue.  And he continued smoking till the great banker’s last word was spoken.

Then he stirred, and removed his cigarette from his thin lips.

“That’s all right, Mr. Hellbeam,” he said coldly.  “It seems like you’ve a right to all you’ve said.  It seems, I said.  But the ‘fool’ talk.”  He shook his head.  “My best enemies don’t reckon me that—­generally.  The game I’m playing has room enough for things that look like blunders.  I allow that.  It doesn’t matter.  You see, I know more of this feller Martin maybe than you do.  I guess he’s a mighty big coward, except when he’s got the drop on a feller.  I’ve given him the scare of a lifetime, and I’ve unshipped him from his safe anchorage on that darn Labrador coast.  Do you know what’s happened?  I’ll tell you.  He’s quit Sachigo.  From what I can learn he’s sold out his mill to that uncouth hoodlum, Harker, who was sort of his partner, and quit.  Where?  I don’t know yet.  Why has he quit?  Why, because he knows we’ve located his hiding, and will get him if he remains.  You reckon I’ve mussed things up.”  He shook his head.  “He was well-nigh safe up there on Labrador—­and I knew it.  We had to get him out of it.  Well, I’ve got him out.  He’s bolted like a gopher, and it’s up to me to locate him.  I shall locate him.  I’m glad he’s quit that hellish country.  I’ve had a year of it, and it’s put the fear of God into me.  You needn’t worry.  I’m quite ready to quit your pay.  But I’m going on with this thing, sure.  You see, I owe him quite a piece for myself—­now.  I’ve been through the hell he intended me to go through when he sent me along up to be held prisoner by that skunk, Ole Porson.  I’m going to pay him for that—­good.  I don’t want your pay—­now.  One day I’ll hand that feller over to you—­and when you’ve doped him plenty—­you’ll have paid me.”  He rose leisurely from his comfortable chair.  “May I take another of your good cigarettes?” he went on, with a half smile in his cold eyes.  “You see, I won’t get another, seeing I’m quitting you.”

He deliberately helped himself without waiting for permission, while his eyes dwelt on the gold box containing them.