“And who are you, sir?” he inquired frostily.
“Just an interested observer, Professor,” was the response, accompanied by a smile that crinkled the corners of the speaker’s eyes.
“Well, sir,” said the Saint, in his most precise pedantic voice, “in the first place, this is not a ‘gadget’; it is a highly involved and intricate extrapository reactodyne, operating according to an entirely new principle of electronics. Later, perhaps, after the demonstration is concluded, you may—”
“Not afraid I might find something phony, are you?” The big man stepped very close. “And haven’t I seen your picture somewhere before?”
Professor Simeon Tattersall lowered his eyes for a single fleeting instant, then raised their candid blue gaze to the stranger’s.
“You may have read about my work in mineral detection—”
“That’s what it said in the paper,” assented the large man jovially. “I must have been thinking about someone else. The name’s on the tip of my tongue — but you wouldn’t know about that.” He beamed. “Anyway, Prof — I’ve been in the mining game a long time. Know all the dodges. Thought some of them up myself. I’ll be watching your demonstration with great interest.”
He chuckled tranquilly and rejoined the motley gallery.
There followed what radio commentators call an “expectant hush.”
Simon picked up his instrument, with barely visible nervousness, and started up the slope from the mill to the small mountain of “muck” fanning out below the old mine entrance. He skirted around its base, his audience following, and approached the steep hillside itself.