Would he submit his calculations to the Commission, that they might judge if the project of the Association could be accomplished?
“No, certainly not!” said J. T. Maston. “It is my right as a free American citizen to keep from anybody the result of my work!”
“But if that is your right, Mr. Maston,” said President Prestice solemnly, as if he spoke in the name of the entire world, “it may be your duty to speak in face of the anxiety that exists.”
J. T. Maston did not think it was his duty. He had only one duty—to keep silent; and he would keep silent.
In spite of their persistence, their supplications, their threats, the members of the Commission of Inquiry could get nothing out of the man with the iron hook. Never would they have believed that so much obstinacy lurked within a gutta-percha cranium!
J. T. Maston left as he had arrived, and that he was congratulated on his valiant defence by Mrs. Scorbitt we need hardly say.
When the result of J. T. Maston’s appearance was made known, public opinion took a form that was really serious for his safety. The pressure on the Government became so great that Secretary John S. Wright had to obtain permission from the President to act manu militari.
On the evening of the 13th of March, J. T. Maston was in his workroom at Ballistic Cottage, absorbed in his algebra, when the bell of the telephone tinkled nervously.
“Hallo, there! Hallo, there!” murmured the instrument in a way that showed great anxiety.
“Who’s there?” asked J. T. Maston.