"Of course; beg your pardon."
"Thad's all ride. But dell be, is he really goig to dry vor id?"
"Sure thing. He may have started already."
Here both men noticed in a careless way, a movement of the shoulders of the girl in front of them when a hand went nervously to her face. And it so happened that the Rose Cold's next words were the expression of her own thoughts when he said:
"The bad's a vool!"
"No," said the younger man; "he's not a fool. He has done a lot of figuring over it,—and experimenting. You see his machine is too good to be true. It can shoot through space at the same rate as electric waves, or waves of light."
"And how vasd is thad?"
"About a hundred and eighty thousand miles a second."
"Doe!"
"Yep."