“In the United States, 280,000; in the world, 450,000. But more are needed very much, and have been for years,” returned Mr. Doane.
“Well, why don’t you make them?” inquiringly.
“Ah! there’s where the trouble is! Since 1963 no instruments have been made. The secret is lost!”
“Lost! The secret is lost! How could it be possible to lose the secret of such a discovery as this?” and a look of incredulity expressed the doubts he entertained.
“It is a fact, nevertheless, Mr. Cobb; a fact coupled with sorrow to me in many ways. But let us take the drag and return to the house, as it is near luncheon; I will tell you of the accident as we ride along.” A shade of sorrow came over his face as he spoke.
As the drag sped along the grand avenue toward the beautiful home of the superintendent, Cobb listened to the old man’s story concerning the loss of the secret of Jean Colchis’ great invention.
“My grandfather,” commenced Mr. Doane, “was the first superintendent of the sympathetic telegraph system. In 1892, when the wonderful discovery of Jean Colchis, of whom you no doubt have heard—”
“And with whom he was on terms of the closest friendship,” broke in Hugh, in a matter-of-fact sort of way.
“Knew Jean Colchis! personally knew the inventor of the system I have been explaining to you!” cried Mr. Doane, in astonishment.
“Yes,” from Cobb.