“It can’t be a failure,” said Vane, suddenly. “It must go.”
Deering looked at him pityingly.
“You see,” he said to Aunt Hannah, “your nephew is attracted by it, and believes in it.”
“Yes,” said Aunt Hannah, with a shudder. “Roll up the plans now, my dear,” she added, huskily; “it’s getting late.”
“All right, aunt. Soon,” said Vane, quietly; and then, with some show of excitement, “I tell you it must go. Why, it’s as simple as simple. Look here, uncle, the water’s heated here and runs up there and there, and out and all about, and comes back along those pipes, and gradually gets down to the coil here, and is heated again. Why, if that was properly made by good workmen, it couldn’t help answering.”
Deering smiled sadly.
“You didn’t have one made like that, did you?”
“Yes. Six times over, and of the best material.”
“Well?”
“No, my boy, ill. There was a disastrous explosion each time.”