“In the stern of the boat.”
“Stern? Why, it will fill the boat, and there will not be room for anything else.”
“Oh, but the future ones will be made all of iron, and not take up half the space.”
Gilmore touched a lever and moved a crank.
“Don’t, don’t,” yelled Macey, running to the door, “it will go off.”
There was a roar of laughter, in which all joined, and Vane explained the machine a little more, and above all that this was only a tentative idea and just to see if the mechanism would answer its purpose.
“But, I say,” cried Gilmore, “it looks like a wooden lathe made to turn water.”
“Or a mangle,” said Distin, with a sneer of contempt.
“Wrong, both of you,” cried Macey, getting toward the door, so as to be able to escape if Vane tried to get at him. “I’ll tell you what it’s like—a knife-grinder’s barrow gone mad.”
“All right,” said Vane, “laugh away. Wait till you see how it works.”