“Tell me,” I returned, “and I’ll fall over in surprise.”
“My name’s Felix Gennor, Jr. I suppose you’ve heard of the Gennor Radio Corporation.”
“Yes, indeed,” I said.
“Well, that’s us,” and he sort of pumped his chest full of air like a toad. He was good! “My father,” he added, “owns the whole concern. Millionaire. Buys me everything I want. Gave me this little bus for a birthday present.”
Little bus! I wondered what he called a Ford.
“And if you like the looks of Tutter,” I said, trying to get a line on him, “is your father going to buy you that for your next birthday?”
“If the town looks good to me,” he said, “and [[146]]my proposition is accepted, we may build one of our factories here.”
“A radio factory?”
“Our new radio toy factory,” he informed, with an important flourish of his hand.
I caught Scoop’s signal to go cautious.