“It is all right about the bananas,” he said to Madge. “I can sell them direct to the pushcart men. Like to do it, too,” he chuckled. “Be great to go down in the Ghetto and see the grinning faces of dirty little urchins as they devour cheap bananas.”
“Grapefruit is different.” His brow wrinkled. “Grapefruit must be sold to commission men. That’s where they may have us. Commission men may fear the Fruit Company too much to buy from us.”
“I’ll get off a wireless or two,” he told himself.
As he emerged from the wireless room a deep frown was on his brow. His worst fears had been confirmed. Barney Tower, an old trusted friend, had wired him that without the permission of the Fruit Company’s President the Commission men would not dare purchase his cargo.
Johnny smiled a little grimly at thought of that very man, the President, who held all the power, being his Unwilling Guest.
“It’s a queer situation,” he told himself. “By the aid of Providence we saved his life. And yet, I would not dare ask him to lift the ban on our cargo. I don’t believe it would be any use. The interests of his precious Fruit Company must be preserved at all costs. That’s how he thinks of it, at any rate.”
He sat down to think. Two minutes later he sprang to his feet.
“We might do it!” He raced away in search of Kennedy.
“Kennedy,” he said, “you are a Britisher. Do you know anyone in Canada?”
“Why yes, I ought to. Yes, yes, I do. The harbor master in Toronto is an old war pal of mine.”