"I will answer for it that she has never encouraged him for a moment," Kendrick assented, "yet Phipps is one of those men who never take 'no' for an answer, who simply don't know what it is to despair of a thing. I've been watching that ménage for the last twelve months, and I've watched Peter Phipps fighting his grim battle. I think I was one of the party when he first met her. Since then, though the fellow has any amount of tact, his pursuit of her must have been a persecution. He put Dredlinton on the Board of the B. & I., solely to buy his way into the household. He sent him home one day in a new car--a present to his wife. She has never ridden in it and she made her husband return it." "I know," Wingate muttered. "I've heard a little of this, and seen it, too." "Well, there you are," Kendrick concluded. "You know Phipps. You know what it must seem like to him to have another man step in, just as he may have been flattering himself that he was gaining ground. He hated you before. He'd give his soul, if he had one to break you now." "He'll do what he can, Ken," said Wingate, with a smile, as he left the office, "but you may take it that the odds are a trifle on us.--Not later than one-thirty, then." "There is no doubt," he remarked a moment later, as he stepped into his car, where Josephine was waiting for him, "that we are at war." She laughed quietly. The excitement of those last few minutes in the offices of the British and Imperial Granaries had acted like a stimulant. She had lost entirely her tense and depressed air. The colour of her eyes was newly discovered in the light that played there. "You couldn't have fired the first shot in more dramatic fashion," she declared. "Even Mr. Phipps lost his nerve for a moment, and I thought that Henry was going to collapse altogether. I wonder what they are doing now." "Ringing up Scotland Yard, or on their way there, I should think," Wingate replied. She shivered for a moment. "You are not afraid of the police, are you?" she asked. "I don't think we need be," he replied cheerfully, "unless we have bad luck. Of course, I have had professional advice as to all the details. The thing has been thought out step by step, almost scientifically. Slate is a marvellous fellow, and I think he has gathered up every loose end. Makes one realise how easy crime would be if one went into it unflurried and with a clear conscience.--Tell me, by the by, was it by accident that you opened that cable this morning?" "Not entirely," she confessed. "I was in the library this morning talking to Grant, my new butler." "Satisfactory, I trust?" Wingate murmured.