"Oxygen c.o.c.ktail for mine," laughed Waldron, to cover a certain emotion he could not help feeling at sight of the actual operation of a process which might, after all, open out ways and means for the utter subjugation of the world.

Neither Flint nor the inventor vouchsafed even a smile. The Billionaire drew near, adjusted a pair of pince-nez on his hawk-like nose, and peered curiously at the apparatus. Herzog, with a quick gesture, turned a small silver faucet.

"Oxygen! Unlimited oxygen!" he exclaimed. "I have found the process, gentlemen, commercially practicable. Oxygen!"

Even as he spoke, a lambent, sparkling liquid began to flow through the pipette, into the flask. At sight of it, the Billionaire's eyes lighted up with triumph. Waldron, despite his a.s.sumed nonchalance, felt the hunting thrill of Wall street, the quick stab of exultation when victory seemed well in hand.

"These bottles," said Herzog, "are double, constructed on the principle of the Thermos bottle. They will keep the liquid gases I shall show you, for days. Huge tanks could be built on the same principle. In a short time, gentlemen, you can handle tons of these gases, if you like--thousands of tons, unlimited tons.

"The Siemens and Halske people, and the Great Falls, S.C., plant, will be mere puttering experimenters beside you. For neither they nor any other manufacturers have any knowledge of the vital process--my secret, polarizing transformer, which does the work in one-tenth the time and at one-hundredth the cost of any other known process. For example, see here?"

He turned the faucet, disconnected the flask and handed it to Flint.

"There, sir," he remarked, "is a half-pint of pure liquid oxygen, drawn from the air in less than eight minutes, at a cost of perhaps two-tenths of a cent. On a large scale the cost can be vastly reduced. Are you satisfied, sir?"

Flint nodded, curtly.

"You'll do, Herzog," he replied--his very strongest form of commendation. "You're not half bad, after all. So this is liquid oxygen, eh? Very cheap, and very cold?"

His eyes gleamed with joy at sight of the translucent potent stuff--the very stuff of life, its essence and prime principle, without which neither plant nor animal nor man can live--oxygen, mother of all life, sustainer of the world.

"Very cheap, yes, sir," answered the scientist. "And cold, enormously cold. The specimen you hold in your hand, in that vacuum-protected flask, is more than three hundred degrees below zero. One drop of it on your palm would burn it to the bone. Incidentally, let me tell you another fact--"

"And that is?"

"This specimen is the allotropic or condensed form of oxygen, much more powerful than the usual liquified gas."

"Ozone, you mean?"

"Precisely. Would you like to sense its effect as a ventilating agent?"

"No danger?"

"None, sir. Here, allow me."

Herzog took the flask, pressed a little spring and liberated the top. At once a whitish vapor began to coil from the neck of the bottle.

"Hm!" grunted Waldron, smiling. "Mountain winds and sea breezes have nothing on that!" He sniffed with appreciation. "Some gas, all right!"

"You're right, Wally," answered the Billionaire. "If this works out on a large scale, in all its details--well--I needn't impress its importance on you!"

Yielding to the influence of the wonderful, life-giving gas, the rather close air of the laboratory, contaminated by a variety of chemical odors, and vitiated by its recent loss of oxygen, had begun to freshen and purify itself in an astonishing manner. One would have thought that through an open window, close at hand, the purest ocean breeze was blowing. A faint tinge of color began to liven the somewhat pasty cheek of the Billionaire. Waldron's big chest expanded and his eye brightened.

Even the meek Herzog stood straighter and looked more the man, under the stimulus of the life-giving ozone.

"Fine!" exclaimed Flint, with unwonted enthusiasm, and nearly yielded to a laugh. Waldron went so far as to slap Herzog on the shoulder.

"You're some wizard, old man!" he exclaimed, with a warmth hitherto never known by him--for already the subtle gas was beginning to intoxicate his senses. "And you can handle nitrogen with the same ease and precision?"

"Exactly," answered Herzog. "This other vial contains pure nitrogen.

With enlarged apparatus, I can supply it by the trainload. The world's fertilizer problem is solved!"

"Great work!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Waldron, even more excited than before, but Flint, his natural sourness a.s.serting itself, merely growled some ungracious remark.

"Nitrogen can go hang," said he. "It's oxygen we're after, primarily.

Once we get our grip on that, the world will be--"

Waldron checked him just in time.

"Enough of this," he interrupted sharply. "I admit, I'm not myself, in this rich atmosphere. I know _you're_ feeling it, already, Flint. Come along out of this, where we can regain our aplomb. We've seen enough, for once."

He turned to Herzog.

"For G.o.d's sake, man," cried he, "cork that magic bottle of yours, before all the oxygen-genii escape, or you'll have us both under the table! And, see here," he added, pulling out his check-book, while Flint stared in amazed disgust. "Here, take a blank check." He took his fountain pen and scrawled his name on one. "The amount? That's up to you. Now, let us out," he bade, as Herzog stood there regarding the check with entire uncomprehension. "Out, I say, before I get extravagant!"

Herzog, perfectly comprehending the magnates' unusual conduct as due to oxygen-intoxication in its initial stage, made no comment, but walked to the door, spun the combination and flung it open.

"Glad to have had the pleasure of demonstrating the process to you, gentlemen," said he. "If you're convinced it's practicable, I'm at your orders for any larger extension of the work. Have you any other question or suggestion?"

Neither magnate answered. Flint was trying hard to hold his self-control. Waldron, red-faced now and highly stimulated, looked as though he had been drinking even more than usual.

Both pa.s.sed out of the laboratory with rather unsteady steps. Together they retraced their way to the administration building; and there, safe at last in the private inner office, with the door locked, they sat down and stared at each other with expressions of amazement.

CHAPTER VII.

A FREAK OF FATE.

Waldron was the first to speak. With a sudden laugh, boisterous and wild, he cried:

"Flint, you old scoundrel, you're drunk!"

"Drunk yourself!" retorted the Billionaire, half starting from his chair, his fist clenched in sudden pa.s.sion. "How dare you--?"

"Dare? I dare anything!" exclaimed Waldron. "Yes, I admit it--I _am_ half seas over. That ozone--G.o.d! what a stimulant! Must be some wonderfully powerful form. If we--could market it--"

Flint sank back in his chair, waving an extravagant hand.

"Market it?" he answered. "Of course we can market it, and will! Drunk or sober, Wally, I know what I'm talking about. The power now in our grasp has never yet been equalled on earth. On the one side, we can half-stifle every non-subscriber to our service, or wholly stifle every rebel against us. On the other, we can simply saturate every subscriber with health and energy, or even--if they want it--waft them to paradise on the wings of ozone. The old Roman idea of 'bread and circus' to rule the mob, was child's play compared to this! Science has delivered the whole world into our hands. Power, man, power! Absolute, infinite power over every living, breathing thing!"

He fell silent, pondering the vast future; and Waldron, gazing at him with sparkling eyes, nodded with keen satisfaction. Thus for a few moments they sat, looking at each other and letting imagination ran riot; and as they sat, the sudden, stimulating effect of the condensed oxygen died in their blood, and calmer feelings ensued.

Presently Waldron spoke again.

"Let's get down to bra.s.s tacks," said he, drawing his chair up to the table. "I'm almost myself again. The subtle stuff has got out of my brain, at last. Generalities and day-dreams are all very well, Flint, but we've got to lay out some definite line of campaign. And the sooner we get to it the better."

"Hm!" sneered Flint. "If it's not more practical than your action in giving Herzog that blank check, it won't be worth much. As an extravagant action, Wally, I've never seen it equalled. I'm astonished, indeed I am!"