“Suppose,” suggested Scoop, “that we get down to brass tacks.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” said Gennor.
“You say that you’re ready to pay ten thousand dollars for Mr. Ricks’ invention and put him in charge of a factory to be built in Tutter?”
“Yes,” nodded Gennor, “if we build the factory here, he’ll be appointed manager.”
“But you aren’t sure that the factory will be built here?”
“We’re going into the radio toy game on a big scale. That was decided at the last directors’ meeting. And it was further decided to locate old Ricks and make him an offer not to exceed ten thousand dollars. But we haven’t decided where [[165]]we’ll build the new factory. It may be here. It may be in Chicago.”
“I understand,” said Scoop. “And does that complete your proposition?”
“I’ve got a paper——”
“Just keep it in your pocket. For we’re signing no papers to-day.”
“My! You talk as though you are somebody.”