By the time this pleasant diversion was disposed of the concoction in the saucer had recovered from its stirring, and Philpot declared it was ready to go ahead with.
He therefore placed another saucer upside down upon this one, and carefully strained off between the two all the liquid, leaving only a black powder in the saucer, which he announced was iodide of nitrogen.
“Jolly rum name,” said Cusack, “what does it do?”
“You wait a bit,” said Philpot, scooping the wet powder up with the end of a knife and spreading it out on small separate pieces of paper.
“Fellow’s born a chemist,” said Pilbury, watching him admiringly; “that’s just what old Joram does at the dispensary. What’s all the spread out for?”
“To dry it,” said Philpot.
“Why don’t you stick it on the shovel and hold it over the gas?” suggested Cusack. “Jolly fag waiting till it dries itself.”
“Oh, it won’t be long,” said Philpot.
“And what’s it going to do when it’s done?” asked Cusack.
“Hope it’ll flare-up like the other,” said Pilbury.