Waldron, making no
comment, followed every stroke with keen interest.
"From these tanks," the Billionaire continued, "smaller pipes will
convey the gaseous oxygen to every house taking our service."
"Just like ordinary gas?"
"Precisely. Each room will be fitted with an oxygen jet apparatus,
something like a gas burner, with a safety device to prevent over supply
and avoid the dangers of combustion."
"Combustion?"
"Yes. In pure oxygen, a glowing bit of wire will burst into flame. Your
cigar, there, would catch fire, from the merest spark in its inmost
folds. Too much oxygen in a room not only intoxicates the
occupants--we've already seen _that_ effect--but also develops a great
fire risk. So we shall have to make some provision for that, Wally. It
will be absolutely essential."
"All right. Allowing it's been made, what then?" asked "Tiger," with
extraordinary interest.
"Can't you see? We'll have every household under our absolute thumb?"
And Flint pressed his thumb on the table to illustrate.
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