"I don't give a good damn if you knock with a thousand," Edwardson said gaily. "How much do I owe you now?"
"Three million five hundred and eight thousand and ten. Dollars."
"I sure wish they'd come," Morse said.
"Want me to write a check?"
"Take your time. Take until next week."
"Someone should reason with the bastards," Morse said, looking out the port. Cassel immediately looked at the dial.
"I just thought of something," Edwardson said.
"Yeh?"
"I bet it feels horrible to have your mind grabbed," Edwardson said. "I bet it's awful."
"You'll know when it happens," Cassel said.