"I suppose so.... Why isn't there any money?" He had swiveled dangerously on the Secretary of the Treasury again.
"Sir, purchases of the new Series W bond issue have lagged badly because potential buyers have been attracted to—"
"Stop it, stop it, stop it! You know I can't make head or tail of that stuff. Where's the money going?"
The Director of the Budget said cautiously: "Mr. President, during the biennium just ending, the Department of Defense accounted for 78 per cent of expenditures—"
The Secretary of Defense growled: "Now wait a minute, Felder! We were voted—"
The President interrupted, raging weakly: "Oh, you rascals! My father would have known what to do with you! But don't think I can't handle it. Don't think you can hoodwink me." He punched a button ferociously; his silly face was contorted with rage and there was a certain tension on all the faces around the Cabinet table.
Panels slid down abruptly in the walls, revealing grim-faced Secret Servicemen. Each Cabinet officer was covered by at least two automatic rifles.
"Take that—that traitor away!" the President yelled. His finger pointed at the Secretary of Defense, who slumped over the table, sobbing. Two Secret Servicemen half-carried him from the room.
President Folsom XXIV leaned back, thrusting out his lower lip. He told the Secretary of the Treasury: "Get me the money for the Nicolaides Collection. Do you understand? I don't care how you do it. Get it." He glared at the Secretary of Public Opinion. "Have you any comments?"
"No, Mr. President."