“Gentleman,” said he, “Mr. McCarthy presents his compliments.”
“I see that your off foot is on,” said Mr. Pearl.
“It's better than ever,” said Mr. McCarthy. “That's good!” exclaimed the Pearl. “You can now make footprints in the sands of time.”
“Yes, I've got a pair o' feet and a new leg on my body, and five thousand dollars in the bank, and more coming,” Mr. McCarthy went on, while we were dumb with amazement. “You'll find Sal in every drug store north of the Central Road, and I'm going to spread it all over Vermont and Massachusetts. Two or three rivals have sprung up, and I've bought 'em out. I've got forty people at work in my central factory, which is at Rushwater, New York.”
“He's geared for high power,” said the Pearl, as he turned to me. “He's got his belt on the main shaft.”
The compliment pleased Mr. McCarthy. His eyes glowed and his fist flashed down upon the bench before him with a loud thump. It was the deep fire of his spirit showing itself in a kind of lightning thrust.
“I'm going to be somebody!” he exclaimed.
“If you can find use for it, you'll get all the power you need right off the big engine,” said Mr. Pearl.
“What engine?”
“The one that runs the universe. When you've got accommodation for high power it always comes to you. Then look out for the friction an' you're all right.”