"Then we can safely assume that a circle drawn with a two-hundred-mile radius would contain this man you call Monsieur X"—the newspapers had adopted Darrow's nickname for the Unknown—"since you have succeeded in communicating with him."
"Marvelous," said Darrow to Jack—but under his breath.
"As the sending of Monsieur X is faint, it follows that he is somewhere near the periphery of this circle, or that he is possessed of a primitive or weak instrument. By the doctrine of probabilities we should be justified in concluding against the latter supposition."
"How's that, Professor?" asked the Morning Register man. "It doesn't get to me."
"He is evidently a man not only of scientific attainments, but of immense scientific possessions—as is evidenced by these phenomenal results he is able to accomplish. But we are not justified in reasoning according to the doctrine of probabilities. Therefore, we shall proceed methodically. I have already made my preparations."
Eldridge looked about him with an air of triumph.
"I am fortunate enough to have, in the present crisis, unlimited financial backing," he said. "Therefore, I am in a position to carry out the most exhaustive of experiments."
He stretched his hand out for a long roll, which he laid flat upon the table, pinning down the corners.
"Here is a map of the Eastern States," said he. "I have drawn a circle on it with a two-hundred-miles radius. At this moment a private instrument with a full crew to string sending and receiving wires is two hundred miles from here on the New York Central Railroad. It has for its transportation a private train, and it will be given a clear right of way." He turned to Simmons. "Have you found yourself able to communicate with this Monsieur X at any time?"
"Communicate!" echoed Simmons. "Why, he's easier to talk to than a girl who wants an ice-cream soda!"