“Well, they all have their faults. Either they explode when you don't want them to, or they don't explode when you do want them to, or they're liable to explode spontaneously, or something else. It's all due, as I have invariably contended, to impure nitro-glycerine or unscientific handling of the pure article.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, indeed. Now, what would you say to an explosive——”
“Absolutely nothing,” I replied decidedly. “I should pass it without even a nod.”
“Never mind your nonsense, Griggs. What would you—er—what would you think of an explosive that could be dropped from the roof of a house without detonating?”
“Remarkable!”
“An explosive,” continued Hawkins impressively, “into which a man might throw a lighted lamp without the slightest fear! How would that strike you?”
“Well, Hawkins,” I said, “I think I should have grave doubts of the man's mental condition.”
“Oh, just cut out that foolish talk,” snapped the inventor. “I'm quite serious. Suppose I should tell you that I had thought and thought over this problem, and finally hit upon an idea for just such a powder? Where would dynamite and rhexite and meganite and all the rest of them be, beside——”
He paused theatrically.