“Do you make it, then?”
Grinnell laughed. “That would be funny, if you thought I made it.” The condition of the president’s nerves was responsible for the wild thought that lodged in his mind.
“You are a chemist, a metallurgist? And you have studied the phenomena of radium?”
“Yes.” Grinnell looked surprised, but not exactly guilty, the president admitted to himself.
“Have you discovered a method for changing other metals into gold, or for extracting it out of sea-water?”
Grinnell laughed again. “I am glad,” he said, “that you are not worried now.”
“Oh, but I am!”
“Mr. Dawson,” said the young man, once more serious, “I am not such a very rich man as rich men go to-day. You, yourself, if what I read in the newspapers is true, have more than I.”
“I wish I did.”
“So do I. You probably would know how to deposit your money properly. At any rate, I can name a dozen men who have over fifty millions, and—”