"I don't know. He says it is in the air. He says he thinks it's a kind of wireless telegraph and must work the same way."
"Most extraordinary!" murmured Mr. Heywood, and he looked at Dr. Alton as if hoping for more light on a cloudy subject. Dr. Alton, however, was gazing thoughtfully at the girl, whom he knew to be truthful. He also knew the misleading possibility of a child's imagination. "Do you really think, Ruth, that Cyrus learned of the accident in that way?"
"I don't know, sir. I couldn't hear anything from him."
"You mean if he answered back you couldn't get it?"
"Yes, sir. Nobody but Cyrus could understand anything at all, so far away."
"He knew that you couldn't hear anything he said?"
"Yes, sir. He just wanted to find out if he could tell what a person said so far away without hearing it."
Mr. Heywood turned to Dr. Alton. "He evidently succeeded, and it seems quite incredible."
Dr. Alton did not reply, directly. He had closed his eyes, and his own thoughts, whatever their nature, were so absorbing that Mr. Heywood's voice had failed to reach him. His abstraction, however, was brief. With a smile he shook hands with Ruth. "I thank you for your testimony, little lady. You make a perfect witness." Then to her father: "I shall interview Cyrus at once and we will try to reach a better understanding of the mystery."