"I don't see that. Nobody wants a road-sweeper to go like a Rolls-Royce."
"You don't understand. I'm not out for making road-sweepers. I only bought the old thing to experiment on. It's the reversible steering I'm going to patent. Look here; here's my rough draft. That'll give you an idea of what I'm driving at."
Eves took the paper handed to him, and read aloud:
"'I, Robert Templeton, of the Red House, Wonston, Hampshire, in the Kingdom of England, lately a lieutenant in His Majesty's Forces, do hereby declare the nature of this invention and in what manner the same is to be performed to be particularly described and ascertained in and by the following——'
Oh, I say! I can't wade through all this balderdash. Tell me in plain English what you're after."
"Well, in plain English, then, my motor is provided with two sets of steering-gear, and the clutch couplings are so arranged that I can engage one and disengage the other simply by shifting round on the seat, on the pivot of which a cam is keyed——"
"For goodness' sake, Bob, spare me the rest, if that's plain English. D'you mean that you can drive your 'bus forward or backward as you please?"
"You can put it like that if you like, only, of course, the 'bus is always going forward, because when you shift round on the seat——"
"Exactly. Not a word more. Why couldn't you say that in a sentence instead of meandering through page after page? Why, hang it all, this will make a book before you've done with it."
"It does seem a little long-winded," Templeton admitted, seriously, "but you've no idea how particular the Patent Office people are. You have to be correct in the smallest detail, and draw diagrams showing everything. There's a lot of work to be done on this draft yet before it's ready."