"Indeed?" Spencer eyed his companion suspiciously. "And why not?"

"His invention...."

Spencer's laugh was not pleasant. "How do you know it isn't completed and
patent applied for?"

"Is that so?" Von Fincke walked over to his desk and seated himself.
"Suppose we sit and talk...."

"No," defiantly. "The time for talking has gone by. You know, I'll bet my
last cent that Whitney has patents pending in the United States Patent
Office for his invention. All this waiting for him to finish his work is
poppy-cock. Why are you protecting Whitney, unless he's your tool?"

Von Fincke laughed. "You have strange ideas. Do sit and let us change
the topic of conversation."

"I won't." Spencer strode to the door. "I've done with your dirty
work...."

"Tut! tut!" Von Fincke, who had been leaning back in his revolving chair,
straightened up. "Your language, my dear friend, can be improved ..."

"And so can my knowledge," significantly. "I'm going to investigate
Whitney's affairs and his house before I'm much older. Don't bother to
ring for a servant," he added, seeing his host's hand hovering over the
electric desk bell, and not waiting for an answer, bolted from the room.

Von Fincke's hand descended on the electric bell button with imperative