“Well, this isn't one of them,” rejoined the inventor sourly.
I did not reply. There was nothing that occurred to me that wouldn't have offended Hawkins, so I kept silence.
We stood there for a period of minutes, but the Hydro-Vapor Lift seemed disinclined to move either up or down.
Once or twice Hawkins gave a push at his lever; but that part of the apparatus seemed permanently to have retired from active business.
“Shall we move soon?” I inquired, when the stillness became oppressive.
“Presently,” growled Hawkins.
Another long pause, and I hazarded again:
“Isn't it growing warm?”
“I don't feel it.”
“Well, it is! Ah! The heat is coming from that plate!” I exclaimed, as it dawned upon me that the big iron thing was radiating warm waves through the stuffy little car. “Your Hydro-Vapor Lift will be pleasant to ride in when the thermometer runs up in August, won't it?”