Caples poured a cup of coffee and made a face when he sipped it. "Donner, I don't know why you have to ornament this yarn with hypnotic-voiced villains and captive girls. Can't you just tell us if your expensive gadget worked?"
Halleck slumped glumly. Taplin fluttered over the cold coffee and ordered some more.
"The device did work, Mr. Caples. I set Ruhl and Heiniger up in the isolated shop at the west corner of the plant area and they had it functioning in three weeks. We brought in a skilled glass-cutter to form the big, faceted eye to receive the Sun's radiations. Naturally, he didn't know what it was for.
"By the time the eye was ready, they'd assembled the conversion elements. They rigged the thing to deliver electrical current through a series of step-down transformers. The result was appalling. Until the current was reduced to a tiny fraction of the potential, it blew out every testing gauge they plugged into it.
"Up to this time, I think all three of us—Heiniger, Ruhl and myself—had been kept hopped up by curiosity and Kane's infectious confidence. Now it was evident that something incredible had been produced. Think of it—two men could lift the converter between them, yet its potential was as great as any atomic pile we have!"
"It sounds crazy." Caples was getting restless. "Are you sure you didn't dream all this, Donner?"
"That story will sound great in court—but it doesn't account for the $300,000." Halleck's laugh was thin, with no amusement in it.