“This”—and Tommy pointed to Bill—“is the inventor, William S. Byrnes. I am merely a friend—”
“And partner!” interjected Bill. “Share and share alike!”
“That's for later consideration,” said Tommy.
“No, it's for now—fifty-fifty,” said Bill, pugnaciously.
“I shouldn't quarrel about the division of the spoils if I were you,” suggested Mr. Kemble. “Fool inventors always do. Suppose we first find out whether it's worth quarreling about?”
“Go on, Bill; you tell him,” said Tommy, and he began to study the notes he had taken about the points Professor Jenkins had emphasized.
“Well,” said Bill, confidently, “we've got a kerosene-carburetor that works all right.”
“All the time? Under all conditions?” asked Kemble, leaning back in his chair with a suggestion of resignation.
Bill did not like to admit at the very outset that his own child misbehaved above nine hundred revolutions.
“Well, you see, I'll tell you what we've got.” And Bill proceeded to do so. From time to time Tommy interrupted to read aloud from his notes. Then Mr. Kemble began, and Bill was more impressed by the lawyer's questions than he had been by the scientist's, for they were the questions Bill felt he himself would have asked a brother inventor. In the end he admitted almost cheerfully that it didn't do so well when the engine ran above nine hundred revolutions. He was sure the high currency ionized the gas, but he somehow had not got it to ionizing fast enough.