"Valuable as they were," agreed his son. "And now, if you'll excuse me, Dad, I'll go take a look at that new engine."
"I have some matters to attend to myself," said old Mr. Swift, who, though he had given up active participation in the plant some time before, still maintained a general supervision over certain matters. He left the private office just as Ned Newton, the young financial manager, entered in some haste. Nodding to Tom's father, Ned turned to the young inventor and asked:
"What's this I hear about you turning down Cunningham's work?"
"I don't know, Ned, what you heard, nor how, so I can't reply."
"I was just coming in through the yard when I saw Cunningham getting into an auto with a man who had a face like a rat's. He was a stranger to me; but I knew Cunningham, of course. Say, he was mad, that Englishman! I heard him muttering something about your having refused his contracts and, as nearly as I could make out, he was cussing you up hill and down dale and threatening not only to take his contracts to another firm but to get even with you as well."
"Yes he was angry when he left here," admitted Tom. "But that's all bosh about his going to get even. It was a plain business proposition. Cunningham is a good business man, whatever else he may be, and business men don't look for revenge just because one firm won't do their manufacturing for them."
"Maybe not. It might have been a lot of superheated atmosphere. But I can't understand, Tom, why you didn't take his work. There would have been a good profit in it, you told me, after the preliminary investigation."
"Yes, the profit was there."
"Well, then, what was wrong with such a handsome contract for the very kind of machinery that we are so well equipped to manufacture?"
"If you really want to know, Ned, I'll tell you."