In this emergency I decided to appeal to General E.M. Weaver, Chief of Coast Artillery, whom I knew from having played golf with him at Chevy Chase, and, after telephoning, I hurried to his house in a taxicab. The general looked grave when I repeated Miss Ryerson’s story, and said that this accorded with other reports of German underground activities that had come to his knowledge. Of course, a guard must be furnished for Mr. Edison, who was in Baltimore at the time, working out plans for the scientific defences of Washington in the physical laboratories of the Johns Hopkins University.
“I must talk with Edison,” said the General. “Suppose you go to Baltimore in the morning, Mr. Langston, with a note from me. It’s only forty-five minutes and—tell Mr. Edison that I will be greatly relieved if he will return to Washington with you.”
I had interviewed Thomas A. Edison on several occasions and gained his confidence, so that he received me cordially the next morning in Baltimore and, in deference to General Weaver’s desire, agreed to run down to Washington that afternoon, although he laughed at the idea of any danger.
As we rode on the train the inventor talked freely of plans for defending the national capital against General von Mackensen’s army which, having occupied Richmond, was moving up slowly through Virginia. It is a matter of familiar history now that these plans provided for the use of liquid chlorine against the invaders, this dangerous substance to be dropped upon the advancing army from a fleet of powerful aeroplanes. Mr. Edison seemed hopeful of the outcome.
He questioned me about Lemuel A. Widding and was interested to learn that Widding was employed at the works of the Victor Talking Machine (Edison’s own invention) in Camden, N. J. His eyes brightened when I told him of young Lemuel’s thrilling act at Wanamaker’s Philadelphia store which, as I now explained, led to the meeting of the two inventors through the efforts of Miss Ryerson.
“There’s something queer about this,” mused the famous electrician. “Widding tells me he submitted his idea to the Navy Department over a year ago. Think of that! An idea bigger than the submarine!”
“Is it possible?”
“No doubt of it. Widding’s invention will change the condition of naval warfare—it’s bound to. I wouldn’t give five cents for the German fleet when we get this thing working. All we need is time.
“Mr. Langston, there are some big surprises ahead for the American people and for the Germans,” continued the inventor. “They say America is as helpless as Belgium or China. I say nonsense. It’s true that we have lost our fleet and some of our big cities and that the Germans have three armies on our soil, but the fine old qualities of American grit and American resourcefulness are still here and we’ll use ‘em. If we can’t win battles in the old way, we’ll find new ways.
“Listen to this, my friend. Have you heard of the Committee of Twenty-one? No? Very few have. It’s a body of rich and patriotic Americans, big business men, who made up their minds, back in July, that the government wasn’t up to the job of saving this nation. So they decided to save it themselves by business methods, efficiency methods. There’s a lot of nonsense talked about German efficiency. We’ll show them a few things about American efficiency. What made the United States the greatest and richest country in the world? Was it German efficiency? What gave the Standard Oil Company its world supremacy? Was it German efficiency? It was the American brains of John D. Rockefeller, wasn’t it?”