Rufus unfolded the cutting with hands that trembled in spite of himself. If he had been forestalled then life with him was at an end. The greater part of the thousand pounds was spent or pledged already. Failure meant that he would have now to employ his ingenuity in devising a method of escaping from the world in a way that would not awaken suspicion.
Muller adjusted his pince-nez and watched his companion while he read. Rufus summoned to his aid all the resolution he possessed and preserved a perfectly impassive face.
"Well?" Muller questioned, when Rufus had got to the bottom of the slip.
"It's a little disconcerting," was the answer. "But I shall not fling up the sponge yet."
"But he has got hold of your idea!"
"Not exactly."
"At any rate he has got uncomfortably near to it."
"He has got nearer than I like, I admit. But the greater part of what he claims is mere bluff."
"But his objective and yours are precisely the same?"
"No, not precisely. I go much farther than he does, as Stephenson went farther than Watt."