“Now, when all these fellows go about nitrating their glycerine,” said Hawkins serenely, “they simply overlook the scientific principle which I have discovered. For instance, out there at Pompton the vat exploded in the very act of mixing in the glycerine. That's just what is being done over in that corner at this minute——”
“Ouch!” I cried involuntarily.
“But it won't happen here—it can't happen here,” said the inventor impatiently. “I am using an entirely different combination of chemicals. Now, if there was any trouble of that sort coming, Griggs, the contents of that vat would have begun to turn green before now. But as you see——”
“Haw—Hawkins!” I croaked hoarsely, pointing a shaking finger at the machine.
“Well, what is it now?”
“Look!” I managed to articulate.
“Oh, Lord!” sniffed the inventor. “I suppose as soon as I said that, you began to see green shades appear, eh? Why—dear me!”
Hawkins stepped rapidly over to the side of his mixer. Then he stepped away with considerably greater alacrity.
There was no two ways about it; the devilish mess in the vat was taking on a marked tinge of green!
“Well—I—I guess I'll shut off the power,” muttered Hawkins, suiting the action to the word.