"We are wasting time," Wingate declared a little shortly. "It is better that we have a complete understanding. Get this into your head," he went on, drawing a long, ugly-looking pistol from his trousers pocket, and displaying it. "This is the finest automatic pistol in the world, and I am one of the best marksmen in the American Army. I shall leave you, for the present, ungagged, but if rescue comes to you by any efforts of your own, I give you my word of honour as an American gentleman that I shall shoot the three of you and be proud of my night's work." "And swing for it afterwards," Dredlinton threatened. "The man's mad!" "The man is in earnest," Phipps growled. "That much, at least, I think we can grant him. What is the meaning of that piece of mummery, Wingate?" he added, pointing to the loaf of bread. "What are your terms? You must state them, sooner or later. Let us have them now." "Agreed," Wingate replied. "The costs of that loaf is, I believe, to be exact, one and tenpence ha'penny--one and tenpence ha'penny to poor people whose staple food it is. When you sign an authority to sell wheat in sufficient bulk to bring the cost down to sixpence, you can have the loaf and go as soon as the sale is finished. You will find here," he went on, laying a document upon the table, "a calculation which may help you. Your approximate holdings of wheat may be exaggerated a trifle, although these lists came from some one in your own office, but I think you will find that the figures there will be of assistance to you when you decide to give the word." "Let me get this clearly into my head," Phipps begged, after a moment's amazed silence, "without the possibility of any mistake. You mean that we are to sell wheat at about sixty per cent, less than the present market value--in many cases sixty per cent. less than we gave for it?" "That, I imagine, will be about the position," Wingate admitted. "The man is a fool!" Rees snarled. "It would mean ruin." Wingate remained impassive. "The British and Imperial Granaries, Limited," he said, "has been responsible for the ruin of a good many people. It is time now that the pendulum swung the other way.--Come, make up your minds." "What if we refuse?" Dredlinton asked. "You will be made a little more secure," Wingate explained, "your gags fastened, and your arms corded to the backs of the chairs." "But for how long?" "Until you give the word." "And supposing we never give the word?" Stanley Rees demanded. "Then you sit there," Wingate replied, "until you die." Dredlinton glanced covertly across at Phipps, and, finding no inspiration there, turned to Wingate. The light of an evil imagining shone in his eyes. "This is a matter which we ought to discuss in private conference," he said slowly. "What do you think, Phipps?" "I agree--"