Mr. Leffingwell Hope raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps you’d better say that over again,” he suggested. “I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”
“Why, I—you see, Mr. Hope, my idea is to build a factory over some coal deposit, and then, instead of mining the coal, just burn it in the ground, and pipe the heat up to the factory boilers.”
Once Jimmy got started he found it easier. Mr. Hope listened casually—impatiently, Jimmy thought. But he did not notice the gleam of interest in the secretary’s eyes so at variance with his disinterested, almost sarcastic manner. Finally Mr. Hope interrupted him.
“Your idea is ingenious, young man, and certainly it is novel.” He laughed. “I don’t mind saying, even if it were feasible, it perhaps would be a good thing for us.”
Jimmy flushed at the secretary’s sneering tone. “You—you don’t think the idea’s any good, do you?” he asked aggressively.
Mr. Hope’s manner suddenly changed.
“You say you propose to burn this coal in the ground just where it lies?”
“Yes, sir.” Jimmy hated himself for the impulse that made him answer so deferentially.
“How would you control the fire?”
Jimmy told him in detail as well as he could how he would supply the air necessary to combustion. Mr. Hope smiled his nasty smile. But with a wave of his hand to dismiss the subject he said: