Chambers swung about to face him squarely across the desk. There was a cold look in the financier's gray eyes and his lips were grim.
"Craven,” he said, “I don't trust you. I've never trusted you. Probably that's no news to you."
"You don't trust anyone,” countered Craven. “You're watching everybody all the time."
"You sold me a gadget I didn't need five years ago,” said Chambers. “You outfoxed me and I don't hold it against you. In fact, it almost made me admire you. Because of that I put you under a contract, one that you and all the lawyers in hell can't break, because someday you'll find something valuable, and when you do, I want it. A million a year is a high price to pay to protect myself against you, but I think it's worth it. If I didn't think so, I'd have turned you over to Stutsman long ago. Stutsman knows how to handle men like you."
"You mean,” said Craven, “that you've found I'm working on something I haven't reported to you."
"That's exactly it."
"You'll get a report when I have something to report. Not before."
"That's all right,” said Chambers. “I just wanted you to know."
Craven got to his feet slowly. “These talks with you are so refreshing,” he remarked.
"We'll have to have them oftener,” said Chambers.