"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 185 - Ships of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

could have gone elsewhere."

Reaching to a boxlike switchboard beside his desk, Falsythe pressed one of many keys that showed
there. Promptly, a voice came from a loudspeaker:

"Yes, Mr. Falsythe?"

"Come in here, Klagg," ordered Falsythe. "There are some gentlemen who wish to meet you."

Clicking off the switch, Falsythe turned to the group. In slow, emphatic tone, he stated:

"Some persons have questioned the possibilities of South American trade. I answer that such possibilities
are limitless. New, swift ships will produce results—and we are supplying the need. We have named our
ships after Spanish American republics, as an expression of good will and full faith in our undertaking."

A door opened as Falsythe finished. A tall, cadaverous man entered, carrying a well-packed brief case.
He approached the desk, placed the burden there and stood silent and expressionless, awaiting
Falsythe's next order.

"Gentlemen," said Falsythe, "this is Klagg. He is leaving for South America by plane, to arrive there
ahead of the Salvador. The papers that he carries"—Falsythe thwacked the bulging brief case—"are lists
of shipments already arranged. Not one vessel, but three, will be required to carry back goods from
South America. Klagg will be on hand to arrange the loading of those cargoes in South American ports."

Falsythe waved his hand as a gesture of dismissal. The silent Klagg left with his brief case, amid the
pleased murmurs of the directors. Pressing another switchboard key, Falsythe gave a summons:

"We are ready, Kenley."

VERY soon, a dapper young man arrived bringing a trayload of glasses. Falsythe lifted a glass; the
directors copied his example. Stepping to the window, Falsythe indicated the Salvador. The white ship
had passed the lower tip of Manhattan and was nearing the Statue of Liberty.

"A toast," proposed Falsythe. "To the Salvador!"

Glasses were emptied. As fast as they were replaced upon the tray, Falsythe shook hands with the
directors, including Cranston. While shaking hands, he worked the visitors to a doorway, bowed them
out through an anteroom.

Falsythe stood there, watching, until quite sure that all, particularly Cranston, had gone past an outer
door, through which none could return. Closing his own door, Falsythe turned and smiled broadly at
Kenley.

"A great day," declared Falsythe, "for both of us: Frederick Falsythe and Arthur Kenley!"

A glow lighted Kenley's pale but handsome features, as he heard himself put on equal terms with his
employer. Seating himself behind the desk, Falsythe pointed Kenley to a chair.

"I told them"—by his gesture, Falsythe meant the departed directors— "that I bought ships from
Balthania because we got more for our money. A true statement, Kenley."