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 flushed deeper, and mopped at his wet face, gasping a little for breath.

"Some kick-back arrangement?" Tredel suggested.

Watkins grinned uncomfortably. "We had some discounting arrangements worked out, you understand. Not kick-back. Bonus-sort-of for increased business. It all fitted together so that the customer wanted it to be my company billing them for the goods.

"The way it worked out, they said they could get the intercom from a firm back East. It turned out to be Tredel & Morton. One of their men made all the arrangements with you people, representing me, and getting the priorities. I started getting deliveries, changed the plates, and turned them over to my customer.

"After a while they had all they needed, but I was still getting them from you. Rather than trying to get them to take as many as they had said they wanted, I tried putting them on the market, and found I could handle all you sent. So I just let it ride that way. There's a little profit in them."

Tredel nodded.

"Seems to me you use a lot of spares."

"Spares! No, we don't use any. All the spares are for the original customer. They're probably still selling them to the Navy." Watkins grinned. "There's nothing likely to go wrong with your units that a new tube won't fix. We don't touch the boxes marked SPARES. Just reroute them to Industrial Finance."

Tredel waited until he was away from here to really let his surprise sink in. Industrial Finance! They specialized in long- and short-term loans, any amount, any amount, to business firms, factories, wholesalers, chain stores.

They were big. Too big, had too much money. That was his first thought.

Then: Who could do it better, without comment or suspicion? Suppose they wanted something from a manufacturer. The manufacturer had borrowed money from them, was borrowing money, hoped to borrow, or might some day have to borrow. "One of your clients needs such and such? Sure, we'll take care of it. O.K. We'll deliver to you. No, glad to do it." No questions, no suspicions. It would be assumed that Industrial Finance was acting as middleman in a perfectly legitimate deal. Or acting as credit backing for some company that didn't have the cash to put on the line.

They were big. Orders would come down from the top, be lost in the maze of legitimate orders, never be questioned, accepted as a part of the routine. It would take someone—one man, perhaps—at the top—

It was no surprise to find Higgenson Rapid Transit was owned by Industrial Finance.

Many things would be unsurprising now. Tredel was quite sure that if he checked with the Navy he'd NOT TO BE OPENED—