“Cater’s been sending new consignments as fast as they could go for the past three days; he’s loaded up with machines.”
Leverich swore again. “D——d fools, not to have made terms with Hardanger first! If we’d only known! If there was only some way to put a spoke in the wheel, even yet!”
“Oh, I’ve got the spoke, easily enough,” said Justin indifferently, “the only trouble is, I can’t use it.”
“Got a spoke! Why in heaven didn’t you say that before?” Leverich came down on the front legs of his chair with a force that sent it rolling ahead on its casters. “What are you sitting here for? What do you mean by telling me that you can’t use it?”
“Just what I say. But it’s not worth talking about.”
“See here, Alexander, could you get our machine in now instead of his?”
“I suppose I might.”
“And you’re not going to do it?”
“I can’t, I tell you, Leverich. The information came to me in such a way that I can’t touch it.”
“‘The information—’ It’s something damaging to do with the machine?”