“Don't be witty,” Hawkins said coldly.
“Never mind. It may be a bit unreliable as an elevator, but you can let it out for steam-baths—fifty cents a ticket, you know, until you've made up whatever the thing cost.”
Bzzzzzzzzzz! said the steam.
“I'm going to shout for that ax again,” I said determinedly. “Ten minutes more of this and we'll be cooked alive!”
“Now——” began the inventor.
“Hawkins, I decline to be converted into stew simply to save your vanity. He——”
“Hey!” shouted Hawkins, dancing away from his lever into a corner of the car and regarding the iron plate with round eyes.
“What is it, now?” I asked breathlessly.
A queer, roaring noise was coming from somewhere. The Hydro-Vapor affair executed a series of blood-curdling shakes. From the edges of the plate the steam hissed spitefully and with new vigor.
“That—that jackass of an engineer!” Hawkins sputtered. “He's sending too much steam!”