Not we.

And Heyst was the manager.
"You know, Heyst, enchanted Heyst." "Oh, come! He has been no better than a loafer around here as far back as any of us can remember." "Yes, he said he was looking for facts.

Well, he's got hold of one that will do for all of us," commented a bitter voice.
"That's what they call development--and be hanged to it!" muttered another.
Never was Heyst talked about so much in the tropical belt before.
"Isn't he a Swedish baron or something ?" "He, a baron?
Get along with you!" For my part I haven't the slightest doubt that he was.

While he was still drifting amongst the islands, enigmatical and disregarded like an insignificant ghost, he told me so himself on a certain occasion.

It was a long time before he materialized in this alarming way into the destroyer of our little industry--Heyst the Enemy.
It became the fashion with a good many to speak of Heyst as the Enemy.
He was very concrete, very visible now.