“It is a wonderful discovery!” exclaimed Cobb, and a far-away, dreamy expression came into his eyes. For an instant his mind went back to the days, long years ago, when he had spent hours in his laboratory, at the Presidio, searching for this very same agent—the storage of great power in small volume—and his partial success in the discovery of meteorite. Then his thoughts led him to the remembrance that his new explosive had been sent to Washington. What had become of it? Lost, lost, years ago!
“Do you comprehend the advance in science that has been made in a hundred years?” and Rawolle broke his reverie by gently touching him on the arm.
“Can I help it? Could anyone have dreamed of such a power as this?”
Yes. He had dreamed of it; and many, many times. But too modest to venture the knowledge that his thoughts and work had been centered on such a grand invention, he turned to Mr. Lochridge, and abruptly asked:
“Is lipthalite turned into gas by explosion?”
“By no means,” quickly returned that gentleman; “by inflammation, and inflammation alone, and not very fast, either. In our generators, here, it is at the rate of about two hundred and fifty feet of these sticks per hour.”
“Strange that I should have worked on this very principle!” he said, half aloud; then turning to Lieutenant Sibley, he exclaimed:
“You spoke of water cylinders; where are they?”
“Under the grating, Mr. Cobb.”