Beckland called the police for the first time, and during the time of waiting for the police, Beckland felt that his legs were trembling, and he directly loaded a bomb under the car without saying a word, which seriously broke through the scope of ordinary commercial competition.

As a millionaire, Beckland's status in New York was still very high, and soon a police officer arrived at the scene, and one of the policemen carefully climbed under the car and took out a yellow brown paper bag.

The kraft paper bag was not filled with explosives, but just a small packet of flour, a false alarm.

Nor can it be said to be a false alarm, the police officer who led the team, Benson, knew Beckland, and after discovering that the brown paper bag contained flour, Benson routinely asked Beckland: "Mr. Beckland, have you offended anyone lately?" ”

The corners of Beckland's mouth twitched twice, and the name of the Dupont family almost blurted out, but Beckland still swallowed back sensibly: "No, I didn't have a dispute with anyone." ”

Beckland has always been a harmonious businessman, and he has a patent for phenolic plastics, and he loves to buy it.

"Then you have to be careful, it's not like a prank, it's more like a warning." Benson reminded Beckland that the United States is also a country where the people do not prosecute officials, and the parties do not admit it, and Benson has no choice.

"Thanks, I'll be careful." Beckland was indeed cautious and called a taxi straight home.

While Beckland was waiting for a taxi, Beckland noticed that Franklin was across the street and had not left.

For a moment, Beckland was so furious that he almost rushed over and asked Franklin why he did this.

But that didn't make sense, there was no direct evidence that Franklin put the bag of flour he took, and if Beckland really tore his face, then it wouldn't have to be flour next time.

Back home, Bakeland was still in a state of shock, and his wife, Adelaide, immediately discovered that Bekeland was abnormal.

"Today at the company, someone put a bag of flour on my car." Beckland doesn't hide that Adelaide has the right to know what's going on.

"Who would be so boring." Adelaide had not yet realized the seriousness of the matter and thought it was a prank.

"Not boring, this should be a warning, somebody stuck flour in a brown paper bag under my car, and think about what would happen if I changed to something else?" Beckland's anger did not subside, and his heart felt like he was holding back a fire and could not vent it.

"What happened?" Adelaide gets serious, if it is replaced with something else-

Adelaide didn't dare to think about it.

"Today a DuPont thug came to my office and demanded a $100,000 grant to phenolic plastics in the Commonwealth for ten years." Beckland collapsed on the couch without an image, rubbing his brow in pain.

Adelaide knew the problem was serious when she heard about DuPont, and came to Bekeland's side to massage her head.

"That bastard is the villain, and when I left the company, I found that he didn't have it at all, just across the street from the company, watching it all happen, and that bastard was warning me that if I didn't agree to his request, then maybe the flour would be replaced with explosives next time." Beckland pushed Adelaide's hand away, agitated.

"When Tess went to pick up Lily today, Lily's teacher told Tess that someone was trying to pick up Lily early—" Adelaide's voice was heavy, and if the two things were connected, then it should not be an accident.

Lily, the daughter of Beckland and Adelaide, is in primary school and is picked up and dropped off by servants every day.

"What? They actually want to pick up Lily? These bastards, I will not let them succeed, and no one will want to hurt my daughter. Beckland was furious, the ferocity in his eyes could not hide his panic.

"My dear, that's the DuPont family, a behemoth that we can't compete with, promise them, give them the license, it's okay to make less money, we already have a lot of money." Adelaide wants Bayland to back down, and no amount of money can buy the peace of the family.

Beckland didn't speak, he actually knew the truth that Piff was innocent, but for a successful person, it really didn't feel good to be pressed to the ground and rubbed by someone who had no ability to resist.

Beckland had a bad night's rest, and at night, when there was a slight movement, Beckland would patrol the house inside and out with a shotgun.

When he arrived at the office in the morning, Beckland realized that the situation was getting worse.

"We're in trouble, a company called Swinburlet is in contact with a company in Nyasaland, and a Nyasaland company might be sourcing plastic from Swinburlet." Leslie, Bekeland's partner, gave Bakeland bad news early in the morning.

"Swinburett?" Beckland had no impression of the company.

"Yes, a British business, its owner, you know, is Sir James Swinburn." Leslie frowned, Sir James Swinburn was the unlucky guy who submitted phenolic plastic for only one day than Beckland.

"Bastard, phenolic plastic belongs to us Bakelite, and Swinburn has no right to produce and sell it." The veins on Beckland's head were jumping, and compared to the threat of the Dupont family, this threat was more realistic and bigger.

"Then we'd better be prepared for a cross-border lawsuit." Leslie has a heavy heart, Swinburlet is a British company, if Baklet wants to sue Swinburlet for infringement, then it is better to go to the United Kingdom to sue, and if you sue in the United States, American companies have no jurisdiction over British enterprises.

But it is not easy to go to England to sue a nobleman, although James Swinburn is only a knight, but Jazz is also a nobleman, for a big nobleman like Roque, the status of Jazz is low, but for the common class, Jazz is unattainable.

If you think about it with your feet, the odds are slim if Baklet sues Swinburett.

Even if the lawsuit can be won, it is normal for this kind of cross-border lawsuit to be fought for three or five years under normal circumstances, and Bakelite's phenolic plastic patent will expire in 1926, and even if the lawsuit is won, there will be no objection to Bakelite.

"Bastard, isn't there anyone who can help us?" Beckland had a splitting headache, and at this time he finally knew why the trust was called a trust.

"What should we do?" Leslie also has a headache, he is a partner in Beckland, and he has both prosperity and loss.

"There will definitely be a way—" Beckland is not discouraged, as a successful entrepreneur, Beckland also has his own network.

That night, Bakerland had dinner with New York State Congressman Fast.

At Manhattan's best restaurant, Beckland told Councillor Fast about the troubles he had encountered during this time.

When Fast was running for Congress, he received a large amount of campaign money from Baklet & Co., and after his successful election, he almost met Beckland's demands, a common situation among American businessmen and politicians.

"The Duponts, and the Marquis of Nyasaland in southern Africa—it's really troublesome, how could you mess with them?" After listening to Beckland's statement, Fast also had a big head.

"It's not that I messed with them, it's that they want to annex my company, and they only gave a mere 100,000 yuan for a business worth millions of dollars, and this price is simply an insult to me!" Beckland is emotional, it's not about money, for Beckland, a few million dollars isn't a matter of life or death, it's the attitude.

If scientists and entrepreneurs of Beckland's level are still wantonly insulted, then this should be regarded as the sorrow of the whole society.

"Don't get excited Leo, let me think, let me think-" Fast racked his brains, if it was someone else, Fast could have ignored it, but not Bakeland, who was Fast's financier, and Faster wanted to go one step further and run for Congress.

Beckland was anxious, and all his hopes were now pinned on Fast.

"Tomorrow you come to my office, and I will introduce you to a big man and listen to his opinion." Fast did not disappoint Beckland.

The next day, Beckland arrived at Fast's office as promised.

There were guests in Fast's office, and he was indeed a big man, and he was often in the newspapers in recent years.

"Let me introduce, Leo, this is Mr. Hoover, who has just returned from Europe, and he is now the deputy director of the European Relief and Rehabilitation Agency, and Mr. Cecil Rhodes, the administrator, and the Marquis of Nyasaland are good friends, tell Mr. Hoover about you, maybe Mr. Hoover can help you." Fast was so enthusiastic that Hoover was known for his evacuations from Europe during the World War and for his help of Americans stranded in Europe, and it was rumored that Hoover would be a popular figure in the next presidential election.

"Mr. Hoover, it's a pleasure to meet you—" Beckland took the initiative, Hoover was not only a successful politician, but also a successful entrepreneur, an engineer, and a well-known philanthropist.

"You're welcome Leo, as long as I can do it, I will definitely spare no effort." Hoover was also enthusiastic, politicians were very enthusiastic about businessmen, and Beckland is now the financier of Fast, and may also become Hoover's financier in the future.

However, when Bakeland recounted his experience in the past two days, Hoover also had a serious expression and sat in his chair for a long time without saying a word.

Fast and Beckland looked at Hoover with blank eyes, pinning all their hopes on Hoover, if Hoover had no choice, then Beckland could only succumb to the obscenity of the DuPont family.

"Leo, you've got a big problem for me—" Hoover smiled wryly, and if it was something else, Hoover might have a way, but this thing really can't be done.

"My suggestion is only for your reference, if it were me, Leo, I would give the patent to Lord Nyasaland for free, because Lord Nyasaland will definitely compensate me in other ways." Hoover's answer disappointed Beckland, but it seemed to make sense.