He arose rather suddenly, for a cloud of steam saluted him from a new spot.
“Well,” he said, “she's leaking a trifle.”
“But why?”
“The plate isn't steam-tight, of course; and the engineer's sending us more pressure.”
His composure had returned by this time, and he regarded me with such contemptuous eyes that I could find no answer.
But Hawkins' contempt couldn't shut off the steam. It blew out harder and harder from the leaky spots. The little car began to fill, and the temperature rose steadily.
From a comfortable warmth it increased to an uncomfortable warmth; then to a positively intolerable, reeking wet heat.
I removed my coat, and a little later my vest. Hawkins did likewise. We both found some difficulty in breathing.
The steam grew thicker, the car hotter and hotter. Perspiration was oozing from every pore in my body. Sparkling little rivulets coursed down Hawkins' countenance.
“Hawkins,” I said, “if you'd called this thing the Hydro-Vapor Bath instead of Lift——”