“Oh, I don’t know who you are personally, and I don’t know that I care. It may make no difference. But I can discover your identities if I choose. That is neither here nor there. The point is I refuse your offer and I’m going back to my laboratory and perfect my machine. Inside of a month it will be on the market!”
“Oh! oh!” wailed Mr. B. Some of the others showed evidence of perturbation, but Mr. X remained calm.
“Sit down again, Mr. Swift,” he said, and his tone was not as smooth as before.
“Is that a command or an invitation?” asked Tom sharply.
“You may regard it either way you like,” was the reply. And Tom did not need to be told that the playing was over—stern reality was now to the fore. The men still had masks on their faces, but they no longer masked their intentions.
“Just a minute,” said Tom, still standing by the chair. “You said, at the beginning that I was here of my own free will—that I could walk out of here any time I wished.”
“That was true at the time it was stated,” said Mr. X. “I may withdraw my offer any time.”
“Have you withdrawn it?”
There was a moment’s pause and then came the low reply:
“I have. Yes.”