Men
the trust could not bribe it had blackmailed. Those it could not
corrupt, and they were pitifully few, it crushed with some disgraceful
charge.
Looking over my notes, I said:
"You seem to have made every charge except murder."
"How'd I come to leave that out?" Schnitzel answered flippantly. "What
about Coleman, the foreman at Bahia, and that German contractor,
Ebhardt, and old Smedburg? They talked too much, and they died of
yellow-fever, maybe, and maybe what happened to them was they ate
knockout drops in their soup."
I disbelieved him, but there came a sudden nasty doubt.
"Curtis, who managed the company's plant at Barcelona, died of
yellow-fever," I said, "and was buried the same day."
For some time Schnitzel glowered uncertainly at the bulkhead.
"Did you know him?" he asked.
"When I was in the legation I knew him well," I said.
"So did I," said Schnitzel. "He wasn't murdered. He murdered himself. He
was wrong ten thousand dollars in his accounts. He got worrying about it
and we found him outside the clearing with a hole in his head. He left a
note saying he couldn't bear the disgrace.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72