Manning felt a vein throb over his right temple. You try to do them a favor and that's what you got. Wise guys. The whole world was full of wise guys. All of them wanted to make a million overnight and they didn't care how they did it. And all of them thought they could get away with it. Okay, so Forsythe would have to learn the hard way. He stood up.
"You take cash or check, Forsythe?"
"What for?"
"For a carburetor." Manning paused, "The government will test it and the government will be the complainant. And I wouldn't advise packing up and leaving if I were you. We've got ways of finding you."
Forsythe pursed his lips. "What kind of a car do you have?"
"Ford," Wheeler said slowly. "A fifty-three model."
Forsythe picked a package off the stack in the rear and made out a receipt for the check. "You won't complain. You'll get close to a hundred and ninety-five."
Wise, Manning thought again, bitterly. He picked up the package. "See you around, Forsythe. Soon."
Outside, Manning shot a glance back at the building and the neat lettering on the second floor window. "I think we ought to test that carburetor ourselves. And I think we ought to check up on our friend Forsythe."
Wheeler looked surprised. "Why so eager? The Bureau will test it."