METHODICALLY, Dreblin reached into the desk drawer and produced a square sheet of dull, grayish metal, which he tossed across the desk to Nethro. The object struck the woodwork with a dull clang.
“Calthite,” stated Dreblin. “The alloy which I manufacture for use in all-metal aircraft.”
Nethro nodded. Dreblin produced a second sheet of metallic substance and passed it to the investigator.
“Ferroluminum,” remarked Dreblin. “The alloy controlled by Hiram Caffley, as one of his side lines. It’s hard to choose between them, Nethro.”
“So it looks to me,” nodded Nethro, “but Caffley’s handling more business than you are, Mr. Dreblin.”
“Purely because his organization is stronger,” rumbled Dreblin, sourly. “Hiram Caffley is a multimillionaire. He has outside funds with which he can push the manufacture of ferroluminum. But his alloy is no better than calthite.”
“What about this alloy of Frieth’s?”
“I’m coming to that, Nethro.”
Dreblin arose and paced the room. His face was troubled; Nethro watched the huge man keenly. A shrewd smile showed on the investigator’s lips. The smile faded as Dreblin wheeled about.
“Some time ago,” declared Dreblin, “an inventor named Jeremy Lentz produced an alloy which he named Duro Metal. I have a sample of it here.”
Stepping back to the desk, Dreblin plucked forth a new square of dull silvery metal and handed it to Nethro, who began to compare it with the specimens that he already held.
“Duro Metal,” resumed Dreblin, “resembles both calthite and ferroluminum. It possesses one quality, however, which the other alloys do not have. I refer to cheapness. Duro Metal, I am informed, can be produced for two thirds the cost of the others.”
Nethro nodded. This was a fact that he already knew.
“Jeremy Lentz,” declared Dreblin, “took his invention to Howard Morath, a shyster lawyer. Morath, in turn, negotiated with Newell Frieth, a high-pressure promoter. That trio wants me to buy the rights of Duro Metal, so that I can use it in competition with Caffley’s ferroluminum.”
“Which sounds fair enough,” observed Nethro, helping himself to a cigarette from a box on Dreblin’s desk. “Except that you’ve already got a lot of dough tied up in your own alloy, this calthite stuff.”
“Which would not matter,” asserted Dreblin, promptly, “if Frieth and his cronies were reasonable in their demands. But they are not. They will not consider a fair royalty basis in regard to Duro Metal. They want two million dollars in cash, for an alloy which I do not need.”
“You’re satisfied with calthite?”
“Absolutely. Just as satisfied as old Caffley is with ferroluminum. Yet I can not overlook the fact that Duro Metal, if extensively produced, would undercut the existing market.”
“And if you don’t buy out Duro Metal, maybe Caffley will.”
“Exactly. And if he does—”
“You’ll be sunk.”
DREBLIN scowled as he heard Nethro’s statement. Plucking a cigar from his pocket, he bit off the end of it and chewed savagely at the tobacco.
“A great bunch of hijackers,” remarked Nethro. “Lentz, Morath and Frieth. This isn’t the first fast one they’ve sprung.”
“What do you mean?” snapped Dreblin. “You’ve heard about—”
“About the Powlden business?” chuckled Nethro, as Dreblin stopped abruptly. “Sure thing! That’s how those hijackers got their start. Jeremy Lentz used to be hooked up with an inventor named Donald Powlden, who doped out a synthetic gasoline. Powlden left its handling to Lentz. The result was that Powlden was left out in the cold while Lentz tied up with Morath and Frieth. The three of them got a million bucks out of an oil company that bought up the synthetic gas to get rid of it.”
“So you learned that,” mused Dreblin. “Well, Nethro, you went deeper than I supposed you had. Why did you hold back these facts?”
“I figured you knew them. And there was no way of getting at those three guys through Powlden. They foxed him so completely that he had no come-back.”
Dreblin nodded. His eyes were keen beneath his bushy brows. Nethro showed a shrewd smile as he met Dreblin’s fixed gaze.
“Tomorrow, Nethro,” stated Dreblin, slowly, as if formulating the final steps of a premeditated plan, “I want you to visit all three of those men. Lentz first; then Morath; finally Frieth.”
“As your representative?” inquired Nethro.
“No,” retorted Dreblin, savagely. “That would be folly, Nethro! Do not even mention my name to any one of the three.”
“Who shall I say sent me? Caffley?”
“That would be even greater folly. Chances are that those rascals are already negotiating with Caffley as well as myself.”
“Then who — how—”
“Tell them that you represent a newly formed syndicate. That your employers have heard of Duro Metal. That they want to buy it to compete with both calthite and ferroluminum.”
“Will they fall for that stall?”
“They may. I don’t think they know the alloy business well enough to realize that no one would try to buck such strong concerns as Caffley’s and mine. Talk prices with the three of them: Lentz, Morath and Frieth — right up the line.”
Nethro was nodding his approval of Dreblin’s plan. His sidelong gaze fixed shrewdly upon the manufacturer’s rugged face.
“Until I can raise two millions,” asserted Dreblin, “I must hold off Caffley. Duro Metal, in his hands, would mean my ruin.”
“Suppose Caffley outbids you?” inquired Nethro, casually.
“He won’t go over two million,” snapped back Dreblin. “You have mentioned a future danger, however. The prospect is not pleasant, Nethro.”
“Unless,” put in the investigator, “you find some way to eliminate Duro Metal altogether. Why couldn’t you and Caffley get together on the proposition?”
“I WOULD like to control Duro Metal,” responded Dreblin. “I do not trust Caffley. There is no chance of cooperation with him. The only plan, Nethro, is to keep the deal open until Frieth comes down in his price. Unless — as you have suggested — a sure way of handling the problem could be discovered.
“After all, you are right. I am satisfied with calthite. It is as good as ferroluminum, despite Caffley’s claims to the contrary. Elimination — something I had not thought of. Do you think you could accomplish it, Nethro?”
“I might,” asserted the investigator, rising. “Maybe by scaring these bozos with talk about Donald Powlden. Or getting a line on some other crooked deal the three of them have pulled. But if I’m going to spring a bluff, I’ve got to see all of them — Lentz, Morath and Frieth — as a starter.
“I’ll be tied up over at the Acme Investigation Agency until after half past four tomorrow afternoon. But I can get to Lentz’s office before five o’clock. Morath’s apartment next; then Frieth’s.”
“You seem to have learned a bit about those men,” observed Dreblin, dryly. “You have not, by any chance, met them?”
“I’ve seen them. That was good business. But they haven’t seen me. So I’m holding the edge for a starter. But tell me this, Mr. Dreblin: suppose I do bluff these phonies. Suppose I put the skids under Duro Metal, or get it for you cheap. What do I get out of it?”
Dreblin considered. When he spoke, his words were both methodical and deliberate.
“If you can cut the two millions in half,” he decided. “I shall pay you one hundred thousand dollars, Nethro. For every thousand dollars below one million, ten per cent additional. A price of half a million would mean one hundred and fifty thousand dollars for you.”
“And suppose I get Duro Metal for nothing?”
“That would be two hundred thousand dollars.”