“Of what use are these millions to him if he is not allowed to enjoy them outside?”
“That, Mr. Hart, is a matter that does not trouble him a little bit! This man of genius thinks nothing of the future: he lives but in the present. While engines are being constructed from his plans over yonder in America, he is preparing his explosive with chemical substances with which he has been abundantly supplied. He! he! What an invention it is, this autopropulsive engine, which flies through the air of its own power and accelerates its speed till the goal is reached, thanks to the properties of a certain powder of progressive combustion! Here we have an invention that will bring about a radical change in the art of war.”
“Defensive war, Mr. Serko.”
“And offensive war, Mr. Hart.”
“Naturally,” I answer.
Then pumping him still more closely, I go on:
“So, what no one else has been able to obtain from Thomas Roch—”
“We obtained without much difficulty.”
“By paying him.”
“By paying him an incredible price—and, moreover, by causing to vibrate what in him is a very sensitive chord.”