clown to Hitler and staff; half American and a Harvard graduate, he was tall and big and waved
his arms like a windmill; for a while he was solemn, and then suddenly he danced, capered,
made jokes, and laughed at them so loudly that everybody else laughed at him. The younger men
were curious about the famous heiress, and she enjoyed herself as she generally did in
company. Elegant, uniformed men bowed attendance and flattered her, bringing food and
over-strong drink—many of them had too much of it, but that was nothing new in smart
society, and Irma knew how to deal with such men.
Driving home in the small hours of the morning she was a bit fuddled and sleepy. Next
morning, or rather much later that same morning, they sat in bed sipping their coffee, and
Irma said what she thought of the affair. She had met agreeable people and couldn't believe they
were as bad as they were painted. Lanny had to wait until they were in the car before getting
in his side, which was: "I felt as if I were in a rendezvous of pirates."
Said Irma: "Listen, darling; did you ever meet a company of politicians in the United States?"
He had to admit that he lacked any basis of comparison, and his wife went on:
"They used to come to Father's house quite often, and he used to talk about them. He said
they were natural-born hijackers. He said that no one of them had ever produced anything—all
they did was to take it away from business men. He said they wouldn't stop till they got
everything in their clutches."
"The prophecy has come true in Germany!" said Lanny.
20
I
The old gentleman had held on to his power up to the last moment, but had failed to decide the
question of who was to be his successor. Long ago he had tried to settle the quarrel between his
oldest and his youngest sons; then he had given up, and left them to fight it out—and they were
doing so. Each wanted to become head of Budd's, and each was sure that the other was unfitted
for the task. "I suppose," said Robbie, bitterly, "Father didn't consider either of us fitted."
Anyhow, the question was going to be settled by the stockholders. It so happened that an
election of directors was due, and for the next sixty days Robbie and Lawford would be
lobbying, pulling wires, trying to corral votes. They had been doing this in underground ways
for years, and now the fight was in the open. Meanwhile the first vice-president was in charge
—"holding the sponge," as Robbie phrased it. He was Esther Budd's brother, son of the
president of the First National Bank of Newcastle. "The thing the old gentleman always
dreaded," wrote Robbie; "the banks are taking us over!" Lanny knew this was said playfully,
for Robbie and "Chassie" Remsen got along reasonably well, and the two couples played bridge
one evening every week.
What really worried Robbie was the possibility of some Wall Street outfit "barging in."
Budd's had been forced to borrow from one of the big insurance companies; it was either that or
the Reconstruction Finance Corporation, which meant putting yourself at the mercy of the
politicians. Robbie was in a dither over what the new administration was doing; Roosevelt had
had three months in which to show his hand, and apparently the only thing he knew was to
borrow money and scatter it like a drunken sailor. Of course that was just putting off the
trouble, throwing the country into debt which the future would have to pay; incidentally it
meant teaching everybody to come to Washington—"like hogs to the trough," said the munitions
salesman, who chose the most undignified metaphors whenever he referred to his country's
governmental affairs. Everything which gave power to the politicians meant debts, taxes, and
troubles.
But Robbie didn't go into that subject now; he had his own immediate problems. "If only I
could raise the cash to buy some Budd stock that I know of, I could settle the matter of control.
Tell our friend that I want to hear from him the moment he has time to spare. I can make him
a proposition which he will find advantageous." This had been written before the receipt of an
unsigned note in which Lanny conveyed the news that "our friend" was being separated from
every dollar he owned in the world. Poor Johannes—and poor Robbie!
The ever-discreet father didn't need any warning to be careful what he wrote about matters
in Germany. His letter was a model of vagueness. He said: "There is a great deal of new business
being done in Europe this year, and I ought to be there getting contracts. Once our problems at
home are settled, I'll get busy." Lanny knew what this meant—the rearmament of Germany was
beginning, and what the Nazis couldn't yet manufacture for themselves they would buy through
intermediaries in Holland, Switzerland, Sweden. The factory chimneys of Newcastle would begin
to smoke again—and it wouldn't mean a thing to Robbie Budd that he was putting power into
