"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 033 - The Living Joss" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

into the ground. You'll be holding a stack of worthless shares. You'll never get control for Barton
Schofield!"

For a moment, stock manipulator and attorney faced each other with challenging gazes. Old Barton
Schofield was perturbed. Blaine Goodall was trying to restore a friendly feeling. Doctor Ward Zelka
calmly puffed his cigarette. His sallow face registered enjoyment of the situation.

SINGULARLY enough, it was Zelka who finally gained the floor after a series of epithets had been
hurled by both Hartnett and Moultrie. The sallow-faced man spoke in a raspy voice that brought
attention in his direction.

"Why speak of integrity?" he demanded. "It is not at stake. Here is the situation in a nutshell. One man,
with a good start, could quietly gain control of Huxley stock. I could be that man. Barton Schofield could
be that man.

"However, David Moultrie seized upon the idea ahead of us. He needed one of us; he wisely decided to
line up both. He came to me with opportunity, which I accepted. I advise you, Mr. Schofield" - Zelka
was speaking directly to the old man, not to Westley Hartnett - "to do the same."

"Hear that?" queried Moultrie, turning to Hartnett. "The doctor, here, is talking sense. I let Mr. Schofield
in on the game because I figured he would listen to reason. He could go after the idea alone. Sure,
Schofield could. So could Doctor Zelka. I could take a stab at it myself, starting from scratch. But the
only wise way to work it is all together."

A silence; then Blaine Goodall took the floor. The president of the Huxley Corporation was nervous as
he issued a plea for cooperation.

"Can't we come to some agreement?" he questioned. "This places me in an embarrassing situation,
gentlemen. I, alone, am conversant with the facts. Unless something is done, I shall have to act in my
official capacity - to make known to the public that Huxley Corporation is dealing with Amalgamated
Enterprises."

"Make it known," ordered Westley, while old Barton Schofield delivered a weary nod of approval. "It
will rectify your present mistake, Goodall. You are dealing with two men of questionable reputation.

"Moultrie, here" - the lawyer's tone was scathing - "is a crooked stock manipulator. As for Doctor Zelka,
I have delved into his past. He is not a practicing physician in New York. He has no recognized status.
Why?"

"A question?" asked Zelka, with narrowed eyes. "I can answer it, Mr. Hartnett. I am a man of some
means. I have chosen a life of travel in preference to the retired existence of a medical practitioner."

"Travel?" jeered Hartnett. "Yes. I know of that, Doctor Zelka. You have been in Europe, through the
Orient, even in South America for a time. There are some cities - in fact, some countries - which would
not give you a healthy reception if you returned."

"Quite so," agreed Zelka suavely, as he lighted another cigarette. "An American traveling abroad
frequently finds himself confronted by unfortunate circumstances which do him an injustice."

"Yes?" queried the lawyer. "Talk to Mr. Schofield about that, Doctor Zelka. My client, too, has traveled