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in the habit of overlooking great talents. He would crush this despicable Breunbuhr like a worm underfoot, and then stride over him.

"That creature has always been the obstacle in my path. And maybe he's been doing it intentionally," Fritz reflected. "He must have been afraid of my talents for a long time; that's why he's been thrusting me into the background." The thought excited him so much that he took a long, unhesitating gulp of wine. His shortsighted eyes reddened behind the heavy glasses. He paid no further attention to Eric. His mind worked feverishly around his plans for the future. The only one he would take into his confidence in this matter with Eric was Heinz.

Heinz was practically measured and tailored for a job like that; a man without any will of his own-wonderful material. He would even keep him close by his side when he, Fritz Opfenmundt, would finally be seated in a deep leather chair, against an enormous desk. Ja wohl! He tapped his finger excitedly against the table top. All that was needed was the proper opportunity at the proper time.

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