"Jack and I are working out a patent in the corporation's time." Darwen looked at the Reverend Hugh with bright, hopeful eyes.
"Ah! is that the thing you told me about, Jack?" his father asked.
"No—o, this is another."
"Something better?"
"Well, hardly as valuable I expect."
"Is that the——" Darwen paused, but Carstairs said no word, so he proceeded. "The thing you're working out on the night shift?"
"Was working out. It's finished now, or very nearly."
"Finished!" Darwen's eyes grew abnormally large and bright. "Have you patented it?"
"No. It's in the rough yet. Quite a secret still."
"At the works?"