hen it raised its head and looked up at my father。 The four of us … the Mexicans； Nevada and I … were silent as we stood there watching them。
The bronc's raised head threw a long morning shadow in the corral dirt that was dwarfed only by the shadow of my father as they stared into each other's eyes。 Then the bronc seemed to heave a giant sigh and dropped its head back on the ground。
My father looked down at the bronc for a moment； then bent over and taking the reins near the bronc's mouth； pulled the horse to its feet。 The bronc stood there； its legs trembling； its head hanging dejectedly。 It didn't even raise its head as my father crossed in front of it and came back through the fence to us。
〃You won't have any trouble with him now。〃 My father hung the lariat back on the peg and started for the house。 〃ing in for breakfast； Jonas？〃 he called without turning his head or breaking his stride。
Nevada was already back in the corral； walking toward the bronc。 〃Yes； sir；〃 I said； starting after my father。 I caught up to him on the back porch。 We turned and watched Nevada mount the horse。 The bronc bucked and sawed but it was easy to see his heart wasn't in it。
My father turned to me； unsmiling。 〃Some horses are like people。 The only language they understand is a clout on the head。〃
〃I didn't think you cared that much about the horses；〃 I said。 〃You never e down to the corral。〃
〃I don't；〃 he said quickly。 〃It's you I care about。 You've still got a lot to learn。〃
I laughed。 〃Fat lot I learned from your hitting a bronc on its head。〃
〃You learned that Nevada couldn't ride that horse until I made it possible。〃
〃So？〃
My father turned。 He was a big man； over six feet； but I was taller。 〃So；〃 he said slowly； 〃no matter how big you get； you won't be big enough to wear my shoes until I let you。〃
I followed my father into the dining room。 Rina's back was to me and her hair shone like silver as she raised her cheek for his morning kiss。 There was a quiet triumph in my father's eyes as he straightened up afterward and looked at me。 He didn't speak as he sat down in his chair。 He didn't have to。 I knew what he was thinking。 He didn't have to hit me over the head。
〃Joining us for breakfast； Jonas？〃 Rina asked politely。
I stared at her for a moment； then at my father。 I could feel the sick knot tying up my guts。 〃No； thanks。 I'm not hungry。〃
I turned and walked hurriedly back through the dining…room door； almost colliding with Robair； who was just entering with a tray。 By the time I got back to the corral； Nevada was walking the bronc up and down； breaking him to the meaning of the reins。 Father had been right。 The horse wasn't giving Nevada any trouble。
And here it was twelve years later and I could still hear his voice as it had echoed quietly on the back porch that morning。
〃Let go； old man； let go！〃 I said angrily； my fist smashing down on the empty desk。 The pain ran crazily up my arm into my shoulder。
〃Mr。 Cord！〃 I looked up in surprise。 Morrissey was standing in the open doorway； his mouth partly open。 It took an effort for me to bring myself back to the present。
〃Don't stand there；〃 I snapped。 〃e in。〃 He entered the office hesitantly； and a moment later； Forrester appeared in the doorway behind him。 Silently they came into the office。
〃Sit down and have a drink；〃 I said； pushing the bottle of bourbon toward them。
〃Don't mind if I do；〃 Forrester said； picking up the bottle and a paper cup。 He sloshed himself a good one。 〃Mud in your eye。〃
〃Up the General's；〃 I said。 〃By the way； where is the old boy？〃
〃On his way back to the city。 He has a date with a toilet…paper manufacturer。〃
I laughed。 〃At least； that's one thing he can test for himself。〃
Forrester laughed but Morrissey sat there glumly。 I pushed the bottle toward him。 〃You on the wagon？〃
He shook his head。 〃What are we going to do now？〃 he asked。
I stared at him for a moment； then picked up the bottle and refilled my paper cup。 〃I was just thinking about declaring war on the United States。 That's one way we could show him how good our plane is。〃
Morrissey still didn't crack a smile。 〃The CA…4 is the best plane I ever designed。〃
〃So what？〃 I asked。 〃What the hell； it didn't cost you anything。 It was my dough。 Besides； how much did you ever make out of building planes？ It doesn't amount to one…twentieth of your annual royalties on that trick brassière you designed for Rina Marlowe。〃
It was true。 But it had been McAllister who'd seen the mercial potential in the damn thing and applied for a patent in the name of Cord Aircraft。 Morrissey had a standard employment contract； which provided that all his inventions and designs belonged to the pany； but McAllister had been a sport about it。 He'd given Morrissey a ten…per…cent interest in the royalties as a bonus and last year； Morrissey's share was in excess of a hundred thousand dollars。 The market was getting bigger all the time。 Tits weren't going out of fashion for a long time。
Morrissey didn't answer。 But then； I hadn't expected him to。 He was one of those guys who don't give a damn about money。 All he lived for was his work。
I finished my drink and lit a cigarette。 Silently I cursed myself。 I should have known better than to let a chance remark about my father bug me like that。 I could afford it but nobody likes to throw a million dollars down the drain。
〃Maybe I can do something；〃 Forrester said。
A ray of hope came into Morrissey's eyes。 〃Do you think you could？〃
Forrester shrugged。 〃I don't know；〃 he said slowly。 〃I said maybe。〃
I stared at him。 〃What do you mean？〃
〃It's the best plane I've seen；〃 he said。 〃I wouldn't like to see us lose it because of the old man's stupidity。〃
〃Thanks；〃 I said。 〃We'd be grateful for anything you could do。〃
Forrester smiled。 〃You don't owe me anything。 I'm one of those old…fashioned guys who wouldn't like to see us caught short if things suddenly started popping。〃
I nodded。 〃They'll start soon enough。 Just as soon as Hitler thinks he's ready。〃
〃When do you think that will be？〃
〃Three； maybe four years；〃 I said。 〃When they have enough trained pilots and planes。〃
〃Where'll he get them from？ He hasn't got them now。〃
〃He'll get them；〃 I said。 〃The glider schools are turning out ten thousand pilots a month and before the summer is over； Messerschmitt will have his ME…109's on the production line。〃
〃The general staff thinks he won't do much when he es up against the Maginot line。〃
〃He won't e up against it；〃 I said。 〃He'll fly over it。〃
Forrester nodded。 〃All the more reason for me to try to get them to check out your plane。〃 He looked at me quizzically。 〃You talk like you know。〃
〃I know；〃 I answered。 〃I was there less than nine months ago。〃
〃Oh； yes；〃 he said； 〃I remember。 I saw something about it in the papers。 There was some kind of a stink about it； wasn't there？〃
I laughed。 〃There was。 Certain people accused me of being a Nazi sympathizer。〃
〃Because of the million dollars you turned over to the Reichsbank？〃
I shot a quick glance at him。 Forrester wasn't as simple as he pretended to be。 〃I guess so；〃 I answered。 〃You see； I transferred the money just the day before Roosevelt slapped on his restriction。〃
〃You knew the restriction was about to be placed； didn't you？ You could have saved yourself the money by just waiting one day。〃
〃I couldn't afford to wait；〃 I said。 〃The money had to be in Germany； that was all there was to it。〃
〃Why？ Why did you send them the money when obviously you realize they're our potential enemy？〃
〃It was ransom for a Jew；〃 I said。
〃Some of my best friends are Jews；〃 Forrester answered。 〃But I can't imagine shelling out a million dollars for one of them。〃
I stared at him for a moment； then refilled my paper cup。 〃This one was worth it。〃
His name was Otto Strassmer and he started out in life as a quality…control engineer in one of the many Bavarian china works。 From ceramics he had turned to plastics and it was he who had invented the high…speed injection mold I'd bought and sold to a bine of American manufacturers。 Our original deal had been on a royalty basis but after it had been in effect for several years Strassmer wanted to change it。 That was in 1933； shortly after Hitler came to power。
He'd e into my hotel room in Berlin； where I'd been on my annual visit to Europe； and explained what he wanted。 He was willing to relinquish all future share in royalties for a flat payment of one million dollars； to be held in escrow for him in the United States。 This was agreeable to me； of course。 His share of the royalties would amount to much more than that over the licensing period。 But I didn't understand why。 So I asked him。
He got up out of his chair and walked over to the window； 〃You ask me why； Herr Cord？〃 he asked in his peculiarly accented English。 His hand pointed out the window。 〃That's why。〃
I walked over to the window and looked down。 There in the street in front of the Adlon； a group of brown…shirted young men； scarcely more than boys； were tormenting an old frock…coated man。 Twice while we were watching； they knocked the old man into the gutter。 We could see him lying on the edge of the sidewalk； his