The Doctor laughed quietly. “I see,” he said, “you administer the medicine and let nature do the rest. After all, that is the about the most any of us can do.”
“Now,” asked Allan, “do you want one of the plates?” He had been standing with the plate-holders in his hand.
“Yes,” Owen answered, “we’re all ready.”
They opened a holder and took out one of the plates. Owen placed the plate in one of the trays, poured his developing mixture over it, and began gently to rock the tray, the spectators crowding about him in a semicircle.
“Of course,” said Owen, “it may be a long time coming up.” Presently he added, “It may be very much under-exposed, you know.”
At the end of five minutes the plate remained obstinately free from any sign of an image.
“I don’t see a thing,” said Edith.
“But, Edith!” expostulated Allan, “it sometimes takes a long while.”
“I think I have done the thing right,” murmured Owen, in perplexity. Then he suddenly turned to Allan. “Say, which one of the plates is this?”
Allan’s face took on a queer look in the red light. “I don’t know,” he answered blankly. It had not occurred to him before. “I know we didn’t double any.”