The American was more cautious than he had been five years ago. He knew that his people were in a dangerous position, and he knew that Zaharoff knew it. He listened while the old man with the white imperial suavely explained that such things as family and national pride were out of date nowadays; what counted was money. The really big kind was international, and was without prejudice; it did, not what it chose, but what it had to do. In times of stress, such as lay ahead of them, little business was swept into the discard and factories went on the bargain-counter like — “Well, like field-guns right now,” said Zaharoff.
The munitions king seemed actually on the way to realizing his life's dream. Vickers now completely controlled Schneider-Creusot in France, Skoda in Bohemia, and the Austrian, the Turkish, the Italian plants. Its biggest rival, Krupp, was to be put out of the trade entirely. If Lanny had ever been uncertain as to why Zaharoff was standing so valiantly by the demand for war to a finish, he had the answer now.
“How unwise for you, Mr. Budd, with your isolated small business, to stand outside the great world movement! You might come in on terms that would be both honorable and profitable” — the speaker showed his delicacy of feeling by the order in which he placed these two words. “You have done us an important service in the war, and this is a way we can show our gratitude. It had better be done at once, before the stresses of business competition begin to weaken the ties of friendship. You will understand what I mean, I am sure.”
“Yes,” said Robbie, “I understand.” And he did. He promised to go back and put the proposition before his father and brothers. “I'd rather not attempt to guess what their reaction will be,” he added.
So the tactful Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor began to talk about the Peace Conference and what it was doing. He said that President Wilson was perhaps a great statesman and certainly a high-minded gentleman, but that some of his projects were hardly in accord with the interests of either Robert Budd or Basil Zaharoff. He turned to the boy who had now grown into a statesman, and asked how he was enjoying his excursion into diplomatic affairs. When Lanny revealed that his chief was a geographer, and was engaged in preparing a confidential report on Georgian affairs, the munitions king couldn't conceal his interest. Georgia was Batum, and Batum was oil; and already Zaharoff was on the scene, and fully intending to stay!
He began telling Lanny things, hoping that Lanny would be led to tell more important things without knowing that he was doing so. When they were ready to leave, the old man insisted upon summoning his duquesa to bid them farewell, and he said in her presence that Lanny must not let the work of peace-making deprive him entirely of social life; he should come and see them some time, and meet the duquesa's two very lovely daughters. There must have been some secret signal which Zaharoff gave the lady, for she instantly joined in and pressed the invitation. Neither of them mentioned that the two young ladies were destined to divide the fortune of the richest man in the world; but Lanny knew that it was so, and knew that all the world speculated as to whether they were Zaharoff's daughters, or whether their father was the Duque de Marqueni y Villafranca de los Caballeros, cousin of the Spanish king, shut up somewhere in a madhouse and stubbornly refusing to die.
When the two Americans were alone in the taxi, the father chuckled, and said: “Look out for yourself, kid!”
“That really was a bid, wasn't it?” inquired the youth.
“A royal command,” declared the other. “You can make a bigger deal than I can. All you have to do is arrange for a regiment or two of doughboys to help the British protect Batum from the Bolsheviks!”