Dr. Alton straightened up and smiled—a smile of surprise and pleasure.
Cyrus returned the smile. At the same time his drowsy eyes became less drowsy and in his voice was a mild excitement. "And so simple! Why, I feel like laughing when I think of it. The only wonder is that hundreds of people have never discovered it."
"What is it?" said Luther.
Cyrus hesitated a moment, as if to be sure of his words. "It's a simple and inexpensive device for concentrating in a space about the size of your two hands any quantity of electrical force."
"When you say any quantity, do you mean enough to run a typewriter—or an automobile?"
"I mean enough to run a railroad train or an ocean steamer; or to lift this house—or any other building."
Luther smiled the smile of doubt. "And the thing is no bigger than your two hands?"
"It resembles two metal soup plates back to back."
Luther whistled—a short whistle signifying a deficiency of belief. "That sounds kind of—kind of—as if somebody had wheels in his head. How does the miracle get its power?"
"From the atmosphere around it."