The financier drove straight to the object of his visit.

“I come for an important purpose,” he said, in his guttural fashion.  “There must be a special Board assemble.  Skandinavia will buy the mill on Labrador.  The Sachigo mill.  I come on the night train, which is the worst thing I can think to do, to say this thing.  If we do not buy this mill, then—­” He broke off with an expressive gesture.

Elas nodded.  He was startled, but his powers of dissimulation were profound.

“I understand,” he said.  “They have been approached?”

Hellbeam stirred his bulk in the chair Nancy had so recently occupied.  It was a movement of irritation.

“That is for you.  You represent Skandinavia.  I—­I say this thing.  I the money find.”

The face of Peterman was a study.  His eyes were serious, his manner calmly considering.  Amazement was struggling with a desire to laugh outright in the face of this grossly insolent money power.

“Nothing could suit us better, sir,” he said, deferentially.  “They’ve been handing us more trouble than I fancy talking about.  And they look like handing us still more.  These people have grown slowly, but very deliberately.  There’s something very like genius in their management.  And seemingly they possess unlimited capital or credit.  I guess I know something of their contemplated manoeuvres.  They’re assembling all the free mills outside our ring.  I see a great big scrap coming.  May I ask the price you’re considering?”

Hellbeam produced a gold cigar case.  A greater man would have been content with a certain modesty of appointment.  His case was comparable in vulgarity with the size of his cigars.  He thrust the pierced end of the cigar between his gross lips and spoke with the huge thing lolling.

“It does not matter.  I say buy.”

The tone, the snapping of the man’s eyes forbade further probing in this direction.  He lit his cigar.

“It will need careful handling,” ventured Peterman.

Hellbeam snorted.

“It careful handling always needs.  Eh?”

“Surely.  I was thinking.”

“So.  You will think.  Then you will act.  You will communicate forthwith.  See?  You listen.  I buy this Sachigo, yes.  The price matters nothing.  There is a reason.  This fight.  It is not that.  Who is the head?  I would know.  I fancy this man to meet.  He is what you call—­bright.  So.”

Elas shook his head—­

“There are two men in it we recognise.  A man named Harker and another called Sternford—­Bull Sternford.  We know little of either.  You see, it’s kind of far away.  Anyway, between them they’re pretty—­bright.  I don’t think they built the mill.  I’m sure that’s so.  It was a man called Standing.  But he seems to have gone out of active management.  I might start by writing them and feel the way.”