“You bet your bottom dollar I did,” said Frank. “I could make a metal casting of any animal and send it traveling with speed. This horse will probably travel at the rate of sixty miles an hour when under high pressure, and could keep going thirty-five or forty miles an hour for ten hours, with occasional ten minute stops to cool a hot joint.”
“Is that so?” ejaculated Patrick. “I can philosophize and so forth, but that bates me. Now, I moind that I was jist as much surprised whin I was tould about a Sthame Mon that thraveled over the counthry out west and——”
“What?” cried Frank Reade, surprise ringing in his voice. “The Steam Man was my invention.”
“Ye mane it?”
“Of course; I invented the old fellow and traveled over the west with him.”
“Honor bright now?” said McSpalten.
“Honor bright,” said Frank.
“Thin ye are the broth of a gossoon he was telling me about.”
“Who?”
“Me cousin.”