“And for drawing a dividend from your soap-and-water-using public, while your string of tag, rag and bobtail prints coax dividends from the millions who have no use for soap and water but can always afford a penny, a couple of cents, a few lira or half a mark as the case may be to have their cupidity pleasantly tickled.” The Colossus had heard the taunt so often that he had learned to smile at it. “You do the Universal Press less than justice,” he said, with a touch of proprietorial complacency. “No doubt!” The answering smile was a little dour. “But that is between you--and, shall we say?--the Council of Seven.” In spite of an iron will, Saul Hartz started at the rather sinister deliberation of the words. “For the present, if you don’t mind, let us keep to Garland.” The attempt at rebuke was not altogether successful. “Wiser, no doubt.” Wygram, politely nonchalant, pointed to the silver box. The visitor warily took a second cigarette. “Garland was the only one of his kind.” Wygram’s voice grew curiously soft. “And his case, looking at it ‘in the round,’ opened a door in my experience.” “That I can readily believe.” Saul Hartz had no afterthought. “From the details the Office has been able to glean, the full story of Garland’s death might be the biggest ‘scoop’ of modern times.” XVIII For a little, while the two men smoked, there was silence. They did not quite set each other’s genius, it was clear. Between them was a subtle antagonism, which yet on both sides did not deny a claim to respect. Saul Hartz, at any rate, had now modified considerably his first estimate of “the pseudo-oriental.” “There’s a second question I hope you’ll not mind my asking,” he said at last. “Do you know exactly what agent was used to compass Garland’s death?” “Oh, yes.” Wygram’s tone removed every shred of doubt from the mind of his questioner. “Your information would be of considerable value to--shall we say--the police?” “The police are in possession of it,” said Wygram unconcernedly. “May I ask how you know that?” “I have been acting for them.” Hartz was at once alive to the significance of the statement. “Are you at liberty to disclose the full extent of your knowledge?” “At liberty, yes,” was the cool reply. “I never, in any circumstances, touch a case without retaining complete liberty of action. But in this affair, I am not inclined to communicate what I know to a private person.” “Why not?” “It would be against the public interest.” “So say the police. By the way, when were you called in?” “This morning--at two o’clock.” “It hasn’t taken long to get at the facts.” “A mass of data was available from those other cases.” “Yamotoga and Kornichef?” Wygram’s calm avowal of full knowledge of those dark affairs which so deeply stirred a section of the world had a palpable effect upon Hartz. But he went on with his catechism. “Were you allowed to examine the body?” “I was.” “Were you able to tell the police the exact cause of death?”