"As I was about to say, Mr. Varian, the government he represents is a power of the first class. It has unlimited money at its control. The financial resources at its command are unquestioned. The war into which it may shortly be plunged will undermine its credit, its home prestige and its colonial power if it is not brought to a successful conclusion. To win that war, which will be largely an affair of naval engagements, it will spare no expense to acquire the tools of victory. The baron, and we also, regard the Varian gun and Chaosite as an unbeatable combination. At the trials at the Sandy Hook proving grounds, the gun----" "But the trials were secret," protested the inventor. "Money will open any door," suavely rejoined the elder Pulsifer; "it is to our interest to keep abreast of the times; therefore, we made it our business to acquire--I need not insult your intelligence by saying by what means--a complete record of the three-day tests." "Your enterprise is only equalled by your resourcefulness," remarked the inventor. Again Ned noted in his voice that queer, dry intonation, as if he were trying to mask some other feeling. "Oh, yes," smiled the elder Pulsifer greasily, "we are very enterprising, Mr. Varian." He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a paper. "Let me read you some of the gun's performances, and you can judge if I am speaking the truth or not. On Monday, April the 25th, target at two miles, wind thirty miles, weather clear: The first shot at nine forty-five scored a bulls-eye; but, the charge being light, three hundred pounds only, the projectile did not----" "Enough," snapped the inventor. "I see that you had some one there. It is getting late, gentlemen, and if you will come to the point, I shall feel vastly obliged." "Ah," exclaimed the elder Pulsifer, rubbing his bediamonded hands till they flashed and sparkled in the moonlight, "you are as anxious as we to conclude the negotiations. Well, to put the matter in a nutshell, Mr. Varian, we are authorized by the baron to offer you----" Ned's heart beat so loud and fast that he half-unconsciously placed his hand over it, as if he could in that way dull its sound. "Five hundred thousand dollars for the plans, specifications and formula." "Five hundred thousand, why, gentlemen, I----" "And a royalty which can be arranged later to suit your own terms," the younger Pulsifer hastened to add. "Look out, Hank Varian," Ned muttered to himself, as the inventor hesitated, or seemed to, "you are nearer getting a punch on your nose right now than you ever were before, you double-dyed traitor." "It is a very generous offer," rejoined the inventor, "but----" Again the Pulsifers interrupted him. "We are authorized, I may say," added the elder one, "to make the sum eight hundred thousand----" "Or more," put in his younger brother. "Eight hundred thousand dollars," mused the inventor in a quiet tone; "why, the government you act for must be made of money."