"Smoke up." Isaacson indicated a package of Jones' favorite brand of cigarettes and lighted a cigar. "You knew that you were under test. I wonder, though, if you knew how much of it was testing?"
"All of it." Jones grinned. "Except for the big blow, of course."
"Of course."
"There were too many possibilities, of too many different kinds, too pat. I might warn you, though—I could have got away clear with that half-million."
"The possibility existed." Surprisingly, Isaacson did not tell him that the trap was more subtle than it had appeared to be. "It was, however, worth the risk. Why didn't you?"
"Because I figure on making more than that, a little later, and I might live longer to spend it."
"Sound thinking, my boy—really sound. Now—you noticed, of course, the vote at the end of the meeting?"
Jones had noticed it; and, although he did not say so, he had been wondering about it ever since. The older man strolled over to the safe and opened it, revealing a single, startlingly small package.
"You passed, unanimously; you are now learning what you have to know. Not that we trust you unreservedly. You will be watched for a long time, and before you can make one false step, you will die."
"That would seem to be good business, sir."