"You!" howled Wolf, his porcine eyes incredulous.
"Me," grinned Kellog. "You owe me five thousand shares of Exploitation, I believe. I want it."
Carmichael sputtered and gazed questioningly at Neville. It must be a joke—this silly upstart of a scientist holding the whip hand over him. Why, only a few days before he had come whining to his office for the loan of a miserable few thousand. Now he was demanding ten million. Preposterous!
"If you haven't the cash, I'll settle for a deed to Titan Shops, lock, stock and barrel," offered Kellog smoothly, but he could not conceal the triumph in his eyes. "I am rather anxious to get a little job done there, but up to now they haven't been very ... uh ... co-operative."
Carmichael grunted like a prodded boar, frowning. He was in a tight spot; he knew it. He had to settle and he did not have the cash. Moreover, it hurt him to give up a property. But there seemed to be no choice, and he was aware that the other speculators in the room were watching him closely. He couldn't welsh—not openly.
"Done!" he exploded.
That night Kellog took over the Titan General Shops. He and Wade worked late, laying out the program for the following day. Tomorrow they would start construction on the first batch of commercial antichrons. But just at midnight a messenger came, bearing a communication from the power company. It read:
You are hereby notified that due to inadequate generating facilities, Titan Radio Power finds itself compelled to curtail its service. Since our contract to furnish your plant with power was made with Mr. George Carmichael personally and not with the Titan General Shops, the change of ownership voids it. All service will be discontinued within four hours.
"The dirty rat!" blazed Kellog.