"'It seems likely that radium will no longer remain the toy of the conversazione, but that it will take its place among the great forces of civilisation. As a moderate-sized cube of it is sufficient to warm the dining-room of an average ratepayer for something like two thousand years, we shall no doubt find in this element the motive power of the future. The smoke nuisance of our great towns will disappear, ocean coaling stations will no longer be necessary, and incidentally about a million workers in the coal trade will be thrown out of employment.'
"This, gentlemen, is from the Daily Argus of to-day."
"Take your word for it, old man," "Carried nem. con.," and sundry other similar cries greeted the speaker.
The Duke waved his hand disparagingly. "Our secretary informs me," he went on, "that the subscription of Major Everett Anstruther is now due. It is suggested that he should produce this £56,000 worth of radium at our next meeting in payment thereof; although I believe that is something less than the value of membership of our Club."
That is why, on April 4th last, Major Everett Anstruther climbed the wall at the back of Professor Blyth's house at Harlesden.
His methods were those of the average burglar. He forced back the catch of one of the windows, drew up the sash, and stepped gently down from the window-sill into the room.
He was in the Professor's laboratory, a one-storeyed building joined to the dwelling-house by a corridor.
Anstruther turned on his portable electric light, and took his bearings. He was in an ordinary scientific laboratory, surrounded by induction coils, Crookes' tubes, balances, prismatic and optical instruments, and other and more complicated apparatus, the use of which he could not guess.
He walked slowly round, observing every corner. Where was the radium? He had read up the subject, and had learnt of its power to penetrate almost any substance, and now he turned off his light, hoping to see its rays.
There was nothing but absolute darkness.