"And in the event of this offer being refused?" Saul Hartz asked.
For a moment there was silence. Lien Weng looked at the circle of tense faces. But it was the American who answered the question. As a preliminary he slowly removed a large cigar from the corner of his mouth.
"Pretty bad for the coo, sir," he said in a voice like a child's. "Take it from me."
"I expect so," was Saul Hartz's only comment.
Silence came again. The eight men smoked steadily.
Lien Weng it was who spoke at last. "We don't ask you to make up your mind here and now. You shall have eight weeks from to-morrow, Monday, in which to reach a decision."
"Eight weeks. Thank you," said the Colossus dryly. And he began to chew the end of his cigar.
"Think it over, my friend," said Hierons, in a cheerful and businesslike tone. "One thousand million dollars—paid down within three months. Think it over."
"I will." The Colossus knocked the ash from the end of his cigar. "I promise you that. And now perhaps you'll let me out of this mousetrap."
"For the time being, sir, the business is concluded." And Lien Weng returned the keys of the room to the Frenchman and the American who promptly unlocked the doors of the library.
