Before them a broad, tiled bench held a strange
assortment of test tubes, retorts and complex apparatus of glass and
gleaming metal. The whole was lighted by a strong white light from
above, through the milk-hued glass--one of Herzog's own inventions, by
the way; a wonderful, light-intensifying glass, which would bend but not
break; an invention which, had he himself profited by it, would have
brought him millions, but which the partners had exploited without ever
having given him a single penny above his very moderate salary.
"Is that it?" demanded Flint, a glitter lighting up his
morphia-contracted pupils. He jerked his thumb at a complicated nexus of
tubes, brass cylinders, coiled wires and glistening retorts which stood
at one end of the broad work-bench.
"That is it, sir," answered Herzog, apologetically, while "Tiger"
Waldron's hard face hardened even more. "Only an experimental model, you
understand, sir, but--"
"It gets results?" queried Flint sharply. "It produces oxygen and
nitrogen on a scale that indicates success, with adequate apparatus?"
"Yes, sir.
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