“Sorry,” remarked Landow, as he looked across his desk. “I understand that you called this morning, and have been dropping in to see me since then.”
“Yes,” returned Harry. “They told me in the outside office that you were out of town.”
“I have quite a few theaters to take care of,” said Landow, with a smile. “I spend two or three days a week touring the circuit, so to speak. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Vincent?”
“Last night.”
“You intend to remain in town for a while?”
“Until I can complete business arrangements with you.”
Landow smiled more broadly. He fingered the card which lay upon his desk — the one which Harry had sent in to gain this interview.
“You represent the United Theater Chain,” said Landow. “A large concern, and a good one. I do not, however, see the connection between your organization and ours.”
“That is easily explained,” answered Harry. “The United is increasing its territory. We plan to take in this district. Usually, we deal with individual theaters. Our plan is one of amalgamation.”
“So I have heard,” said Landow. “You absorb single theaters as units in your system. Here, however, you are considering an organization which already constitutes a chain. There are sixteen units in the Kendall Theater group.”
“All the better,” stated Harry, “Our proposition will hold good on a larger scale. Through association with United, the Kendall Theaters will strengthen their position in this territory—”
“Not one bit,” interposed Landow, with a slow shake of his head. “The Kendall Theater Corporation is established. I know what you have to offer, Mr. Vincent. I am sorry to end your hopes. We do not intend amalgamation. On the contrary, we have planned expansion of our own individual enterprise.”
The bluntness of young Landow’s statement did not faze Harry Vincent. Playing the part of a skillful promoter, The Shadow’s agent sought to find a loophole in Landow’s decisive answer.
“Your opinion is a natural one,” declared Harry. “Nevertheless, the situation is one which we have previously encountered. Practice has shown that when circuits such as yours have accepted the United proposition, the results have been even better than when individual theaters have joined with us. Naturally, I feel that your board of directors should have an opportunity to consider this proposal—”
“Looking for a higher court of appeal, eh?” questioned Landow. “I don’t blame you, Mr. Vincent. The general manager of an organization is not the final authority, and I do not pretend to hold full power. Our board of directors is, however, entirely in accord with one man.”
“Foulkrod Kendall?”
“Yes. He is the president of the corporation.”
“Mr. Kendall appears to have great influence in New Avalon,” observed Harry.
“He has,” returned Landow. “That, in a sense, is the reason for my frank decision. The name of Kendall is of much more importance in this district than that of the United Theater Chain. Our identity is a stimulus to business, Mr. Vincent.”
“Nevertheless—”
“You would like to hear what Mr. Kendall has to say. That is easily arranged. It is hardly necessary, however. You have already heard his answer — for I have given it.”
LANDOW’S smile became sympathetic as the young man noted Harry’s look of resignation. Landow seemed to appreciate the situation as Harry would naturally view it. Therefore, although he had stated definite facts, Landow sought a way to ease his visitor’s doubt.
“I can imagine what you are thinking,” said Landow, “Your visit here has proven a blind one. Not only have you failed in New Avalon; you are checked throughout this entire territory. It would be unfair to ask you to go back to New York with no other report to give than this short visit with me. Therefore, I shall arrange for you to meet Mr. Kendall.”
“I would appreciate it,” said Harry. “May add a request? If I could talk to Foulkrod Kendall at a time when he is not busy with other matters—”
“That can be arranged. An evening appointment would be best. How long do you intend to be in town?”
“No longer than is necessary, now that my purpose here seems useless.”
Clayton Landow was thoughtful. He understood Harry Vincent’s position, and he was sorry that he had been forced to give such a brusque turndown to the United representative. Landow glanced at a clock. It indicated ten minutes of five. He picked up a telephone, and called a number.
“Let me speak to Miss Kendall,” he requested. Then, after a pause: “Hello, Miriam. This is Clayton… Yes… At seven sharp. That is why I am calling. I have a friend whom I would like to bring to dinner… A man from New York. A Mr. Vincent — theatrical representative… Yes, he is anxious to meet your uncle… Excellent. I shall bring him with me.”
Landow hung up the receiver and turned to Harry.
“You are going out to dinner with me,” the manager announced. “A party at Foulkrod Kendall’s home. You will meet Mr. Kendall there, and you will have occasion to remember your visit to New Avalon.”
“I appreciate this,” declared Harry. “It is very kind of you to offer such an opportunity—”
“That’s all right,” said Landow. “Don’t worry about evening clothes — it’s just an informal affair. I’ll stop at your hotel at six thirty. You are at the New Avalon?”
“Yes.”
HARRY VINCENT found it hard to repress his elation as he walked back to his hotel. Here was the opportunity he had wanted. A mere business trip to Foulkrod Kendall’s office would hardly have sufficed. A social meeting at the millionaire’s home offered real possibilities.
Time passed rapidly until half past six. Harry Vincent was in the lobby, carefully watching out for a chance entry of Vic Marquette, when he saw Clayton Landow enter the revolving door of the hotel.
Harry joined his new friend, and they drove in the theatrical manager’s coupe until they had passed the outskirts of the city. The car turned right from a broad road, Landow making a comment as he swung the wheel to make the turn.
“Straight ahead,” he said, “leads to the new silverware factory. A wonderful enterprise, that business. Many of the employees live in the neighborhood of the plant. This road takes us to Kendall’s mansion.”
Another turn brought the coupe between a pair of huge stone pillars. Harry looked along a tree-lined driveway; then the car came to a stop in front of a magnificent residence constructed in vast Colonial fashion.
Clayton Landow conducted his guest into the building. A servant ushered them into a hallway; then into a large living room, where Harry was introduced to a group of people. The Shadow’s agent found himself shaking hands with Foulkrod Kendall.
“Glad to meet you,” said the bluff-faced millionaire. “So you’re from New York, eh? Quite a way from there to New Avalon. I just came back from New York myself.”
“You could have received your answer there, Vincent,” observed Landow, with a smile.
“I was at a silverware manufacturers’ convention,” explained Kendall. “That’s my chief business. These theaters are a side line.”
“Rather an attractive one,” observed Harry.
“Doctor Guyon thinks so,” laughed Kendall. “Don’t you, Conrad?”
The question was addressed to a tall, stoop-shouldered man who was standing close by. It brought a slow smile to the doctor’s lips.
Harry had been introduced to Conrad Guyon, but this was his first inkling that the wise, sophisticated gentleman was interested in Kendall Theaters.
“The theatrical business has proven profitable,” declared Guyon, in a slow, decided tone. “Beyond my expectations, I must state. This must be perplexing to you, Mr. Vincent — to find a silverware manufacturer and a physician as the ruling forces in a theatrical enterprise, with a governor’s son as the general manager.”