There was a moment of intense silence. Dredlinton was listening, indifferently at first, then as though spellbound, his lips a little parted, his cheeks colourless, his eyes filled with a strange terror. Presently he laid down the receiver, although he failed to replace it. He turned very slowly around, and his eyes, still filled with a haunting fear, sought Wingate's.
"Stanley has disappeared!" he gasped. "He had one of those letters last night. It lies on his table now, his servant says. There was a noise in his room at four o'clock this morning. When they called him—-he had gone! No one has seen or heard of him since!"
"Stanley disappeared?" Phipps repeated in a dazed tone.
"There's been foul play!" Dredlinton cried hoarsely. "His servant is sure of it!"
Wingate picked up his hat and stick and moved towards the door. From the threshold he looked back, waiting whilst Josephine joined him.
"Youth," he said calmly, "must be served. Stanley Rees was, I believe, the youngest director on the Board of the British and Imperial Granaries. Now, if you like, Mr. Phipps, I'll come on to your market. I'm a seller of a hundred thousand bushels of wheat at to-day's price."
"Go to hell!" Phipps shouted, his face black with rage.
CHAPTER XVI
Roger Kendrick was in and disengaged when Wingate called upon him, a few minutes later. He welcomed his visitor cordially.
"That was a pretty good list you gave me the other day, Wingate," he remarked, "You've made money. You're making it still."