Tycoon v. Tycoon

Fluctuations of nearly $15,000,000 in the total value of, shares in British Royal Mail--world's largest shipping corporation--resulted last week when Tycoon Viscount St. Davids quarreled violently with his brother Tycoon Baron Kylsant, Chairman of the B. R. M., "Lord of the Seven Seas."

Months ago the brothers ceased speaking to each other. Last week Lord Kylsant intimated frigidly that on at least one occasion Lord St. Davids had written a letter expressly to inform his brother that he would not speak to him. It was a quarrel de luxe, peer against peer, brother against brother, tycoon against tycoon--over a $10,000,000 technicality.

The trouble started one year ago, when Lord Kylsant ordered the issuance of another $10,000,000 worth of debenture shares. Lord St. Davids was and is one of the two debenture trustees, the other being, until last week, the Duke of Abercorn. Lord St. Davids was not informed of the new issue and first became aware of it when he read an advertisement in the Times wherein his own name was used conspicuously. Although he admitted last week that there was nothing illegal about such a procedure, Tycoon St. Davids was grievously vexed, brooded long, and one day demanded certain facts from the company auditor. Like most auditors, this one was a reserved gentleman. His reticence, and other aspects of the matter, so enraged the noble Lord that he issued a pamphlet setting forth his grievances, announcing that he would shortly resign as trustee.

Within a few minutes after the booklet was out, last week, shares of the British Royal Mail slumped from 55 to 45--representing an aggregate loss of something like $15,000,000 to thousands of small investors. Things looked all the blacker because for several months there has been a slow decline in BRM securities.

Tycoon had smitten tycoon. The thews and sinews of St. Davids were those of the Chairman of the Buenos Aires & Pacific Railway, Argentine Great Western Railway, Costa Rica Co., etc., etc. When Tycoon Kylsant decided to smite back next day, he entered! the lists as Chairman of the Royal Mail, of the White Star Line and many another line, also as Knight of Justice of St. John of Jerusalem. Rising to address a shareholders' meeting of one of his subsidiary companies the "Lord of the Seven Seas" shook his impressive mane of pure white hair and solemnly declared:

"The purpose of this personal attack by a relative is quite unknown to me. In 40 years the companies under my chairmanship have passed through difficult periods, but I never had to ask the stockholders to consent to the writing down of the capital of any shipping company. Statements have been circulated about a possible reconstruction of the Royal Mail Company which are absolutely without foundation. For the first six months of this year the results obtained are better than for 1928 . . . ."

When Lord Kylsant had fully set forth his position, the almost immediate result was to send Royal Mail shares bounding up almost to where they had been before the St. Davids pamphlet appeared. Victory seemed to perch on Tycoon Kylsant's standard, but it was not complete until the following afternoon when a meeting of the Royal Mail Debenture stockholders was called--a meeting which both tycoons were in duty bound to attend.

Powerfully built, determined of mien, Tycoon St. Davids entered the meeting room early, ignored his place at the Directors' table, aggressively took a seat in the second row of chairs allotted to debenture stockholders. After a time the other directors entered in a body, among them towering Tycoon Kylsant and the Duke of Abercorn. Rapidly they took their places until all the chairs at the Directors' table were full except one--the one ostentatiously left vacant by Viscount St. Davids. As the room quieted to a deadly hush, Baron Kylsant glanced sharply at the vacant chair, frowned, then swept the room with penetrating gaze until his eyes met those of Viscount St. Davids. Tycoon glared at tycoon, brother at brother. The seconds felt like hours. Then Baron Kylsant nodded sharply, pointed imperatively to the empty chair. Neither brother spoke. They are not on speaking terms. But Tycoon Kylsant's victory seemed perfect and complete when Tycoon St. Davids rose abruptly, crossed to the Directors' table, shook hands with His Grace of Abercorn, sank stiffly down into the chair where he belonged.

All present seemed to feel that the best thing next to do was to adjourn the meeting after a perfunctory session which lasted just three minutes.