Swirling Waters | Page 4

��200,000 in Deferred Shares of the nominal value of one shilling each, which are to be allotted to yourself as vendor. That gives you four million votes out of a total of nine million, and for practical purposes means control."
"The Deferred Shares are not to get a cent of dividend until a fifteen per cent. dividend is paid on the Ordinary Shares. That's the squarest deal for the public that ever was," retorted Larssen.
"But you hold control."
Both men knew the tremendous import of that word. The fortunes of the world's financial giants have all been built up on "control." Dwarfing "capital" and "credit" it stands--that word "control." If the wild gamble of the Hudson Bay scheme were to rush through to commercial success--if the limitless wheat-lands of Canada were to pour their mighty torrent of life into Europe through the channel of Hudson Bay--it would be Lars Larssen who would hold the key of the sluice-gate. Directly, he would be master of the wheat of Canada. Indirectly, he could turn his master-position to financial gain in scores of ways. The ��200,000 to be allotted him as vendor was a bagatelle; but to hold four million votes out of nine million was to control an empire.
He replied evenly: "I keep control on any proposition I touch. That's creed with me. Creed."
"We split on that," answered Matheson.
"You want control for yourself?"
"No."
"Then what is it you do want?"
"I want half the Deferred Shares in the hands of Lord ----." He named a Canadian statesman and empire-builder whose integrity was beyond all suspicion. "I want him to hold them as trustee for the ordinary shareholders. He will consent if I ask him."
"No doubt he will!" commented Larssen ironically. He drew up his chair closer to the other man. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye as he said: "Now see here. All the points you've put up were known to you months ago. What's happened to make you switch at the last moment?"
He had put his finger on the very core of the matter, but Matheson met his searching gaze without flinching. "What's happened is an entirely private matter. I've reasons for not wishing to be associated with your scheme unless you agree to half the Deferred Shares being held by Lord ---- as trustee. These reasons of mine have only arisen during the last few weeks. Circumstances are different with me from what they were when you first broached the plan. If you don't care to agree to my suggestion, I call the deal off. As regards the expenses you've incurred, I'll go halves."
For comment, the shipowner flicked thumb and forefinger together.
"No, I'll do more," pursued Matheson. "I'll make you a more than fair offer--shoulder the whole expenses myself."
Larssen ignored the offer. "I went into the preliminaries of the scheme on the understanding that we were to pull together."
"I know."
"It means big money for you--enough to retire on."
"I know."
"Then what the hell's the reason for this sudden attack of scruples?"
For a moment Matheson's eyes blazed black anger, but the anger died out of them and the tired look of the platform of the Gare de Lyon took its place. "You wouldn't understand," he answered. "The whirlpool."
"What's that?"
"It would be useless to explain. I have private reasons.... I've made you a thoroughly fair offer, and I don't think there's anything more to be said." Matheson rose and walked to the window, pulling up the blind and gazing out on the sombre splendour of the big banking houses of the Rue Laffitte and the Rue Pillet-Will.
Larssen looked at the silhouette of his antagonist with a tense set of his jaws. Many plans were revolving in his mind. Moralists might have labelled them "blackmail," but Lars Larssen was utterly free from scruples where his own interests were concerned. Honesty with him was a mere matter of policy. To a man with the average sense of honour, such an attitude of mind is scarcely realisable, but Lars Larssen was no normal man. In him the Napoleonic madness--or genius--burned fiercely. He had ambitions colossal in scale--he regarded his present wealth and power as a mere stepping-stone to the realisation of his Great Idea.
That great ultimate purpose of his life he had never revealed to man or woman--save only to his dead wife. He aimed to be controlling owner of the world's carrying trade; to hold decision on peace and war between nation and nation because of that control of the vital food supply. To be Emperor of the Seven Seas.
He had one child only--his boy Olaf, now aged twelve, at school in the States. Olaf was to hold the seat of power after him and perpetuate his dynasty.
That was Larssen's life-dream.
Any man or woman who stood between him and his great goal was to be thrust aside