"He's a brute! Herbert, it is impossible!"
"They said that dam was impossible. He has mastered it. He's big; he's got brains. He'll be a gentleman within six months. He's a genius!"
"Poof! He's a degenerate!"
"You'll see," rejoined Mr. Leslie. He went back to the table and tapped the sleeper sharply on the shoulder.
Blake stirred, and mumbled drowsily: "Huh! what—whatcha want?"
"Wake up," answered Mr. Leslie. "I wish to congratulate you."
Blake slowly heaved himself up and blinked at his disturber with haggard, bloodshot eyes. He was still very weary and only half roused from his stupor.
"Huh!" he muttered. "Must 'uv dropped 'sleep—Dog tired." His bleared gaze swung around and took in Mrs. Gantry. He started and tried to sit more erect. "Excuse me! Didn't know there was a lady here."
"Don't apologize. That's for me to do," interposed Mr. Leslie, offering his hand. "My—that is, the Coville Company officers tell me you've worked out a wonderful piece of engineering for them."
Blake stared hard at the bookcase behind Mrs. Gantry and answered curtly, oblivious of the older man's hand. "That remains to be seen. It's only on paper, so far."