“Two million dollars.”
“What’s he offering me?”
“Six hundred thousand.”
“That isn’t much.”
“No, sir, but it’s all he can raise.”
“Lad, you mentioned young Moseley. I used to know his father. If I thought you had half of Harry Moseley’s brains, I’d consider your father’s offer. He’s the sort of man to take his profits and build you a laboratory.”
“I have no such dream, sir,” said Marvin, flushing.
His lordship touched a button, and his secretary appeared.
“Nicholas, I’d rather like to speak to the physical laboratory at my college.”
The secretary set to work, while the American shivered with apprehension, feeling certain that Professor Tonnesen knew less than nothing about him.