TOMMY'S first thought after leaving Mr. Thompson's office was that
he ought to go to New York and see his father. But almost instantly he
dismissed it. The two weeks on full pay at the new salary were not given
to him as a vacation to be idle in, but as a heaven-sent opportunity to
help Bill ten hours a day. It was only later that he thought he would
also be helping himself in so doing.
He told Bill the news, and before Bill's congratulations had more than
begun he suggested that Bill try to get two weeks off, so that they
could work together.
“Nothing doing.”
“How do you know?”
“I've tried,” said Bill.
Bill then told Tommy that he had made some changes in the apparatus, but
they had not helped a bit.
“Are you thinking of a trip round the world just because you thought you
had a patent?” asked Tommy.
“I was only thinking of you,” said Bill, quietly. He did not wish to
fight. He was not discouraged. In fact, the problem was so much bigger
than his original carburetor notion that he was quite reconciled to
working on it a thousand years if necessary. He knew he would solve it.
The tough part, of course, was that somebody else might reach the Patent
Office ahead of him.
“You needn't think of me. Think of the work, old top,” said Tommy,
amiably. “If instead of being an Irish terrier you were an English
bulldog, you'd never let go your grip.”
“I haven't,” said Bill; “but I'm going to bed.”
“Thank Heaven to-morrow is Saturday,” said Tommy. “We'll have the whole
afternoon. We'll try--”
“Don't talk about it or I won't sleep,” said Bill, so unpugnadously that
Tommy felt as if Bill were in a hospital.
“Everything is all right, Bill,” he said, and shook hands with his
partner. Bill brightened up a bit. But it was Tommy who found it
impossible to sleep. Valuable patents evidently were like good
gold-mines--few and far between. He clearly saw the folly of his hopes;
and then he convinced himself that wisdom lay not in hopelessness, but
in patience.
After all, he was now getting thirty dollars a week. He could send fifty
dollars a month to his father and still be much better off than he was
at the beginning. But seventeen thousand dollars was an appalling sum!
And yet as he thought with his head and hoped with his heart, he
felt that he was on the point of becoming valuable to the Tecumseh
organization. He knew--how, he did not stop to demonstrate--that he had
left the “prep” school and was about to enter college, the wonderful
step by which a boy becomes a man in one day. There was nothing that
Tommy could not become--under Thompson! He was free under a very
wise chief. Upon the heels of this thought came contentment, and with
contentment came sleep.
The experiments in the little shop in Mrs. Clayton's woodshed were more
encouraging for the next few days. Bill had not sent the generator and
the transformer to Mr. Kemble. He wished to make the kerosene ionize as
rapidly at high as at low speed. The mechanical means at their command,
however, seemed more than ever inadequate for the work.
On Saturday morning, the last day of Tommy's vacation, Bill received a
letter from Mr. Kemble, the patent lawyer. He read it very carefully.
Then he folded it and put it back in the envelope. He looked at Tommy
and said, very quietly:
“I knew it!”
Tommy looked at the envelope, saw Kemble's name on the upper left-hand
corner, and felt himself grow pale.
“No patent?” he asked. His dream, notwithstanding all his
self-admonitions against exaggerated hopes, crashed about his head and
left him stunned.
“Read it!” said Bill, and turned away.
Tommy drew in a deep breath, reached for the death-warrant, and said:
“Cheer up, Bill! We are not dead and buried by a long shot.”
“I was thinking of you,” said Bill.
“So was I,” laughed Tommy. Bill's eyes gleamed with admiration.
Tommy read the letter without a tremor.
Dear Mr. Byrnes,--Referring to the carburetor you submitted to me last
week, I am inclosing with this letter copy of a patent issued last
December to B. France, which is the only prior patent I have been able
to find at all pertinent to your subject. I am not prepared at the
present moment to say whether you infringe upon it or not, but there is
a serious doubt. I think I should consult with Professor Jenkins
again, as soon as you have been able to make some of the tests and
investigations he suggested. It will be necessary for you to ascertain
as definitely as possible exactly what are the effects and limitations
of your alternating-current apparatus. It would be well to build and try
out France's device, in an experimental way, of course, for the purpose
of analyzing it and the differences that exist. With the results of
this work before me, I could probably reach a definite conclusion on the
question of infringement. I have not failed to note that whereas your
resulting gas is of such a character as to permit your engine to be
started cold, France has not mentioned this very important subject,
and by his omission I conclude that he has not obtained that important
result. This suggests a substantial and possibly fundamental difference
between your invention and his; but I must confess his patent appears
to have been drawn to cover a device such as yours using the alternating
current. Consequently you will see the advisability of pursuing your
investigations along the lines mentioned, to the end of ascertaining
whether yours is an independent invention or merely another form of
France's. It will not be necessary, in view of your successful reduction
of your invention to actual practice, to file an application until the
subject has been further illumined. Your dates are protected, but you
should proceed with your experiments without delay, and I shall be
interested in hearing the results or to talk with you further in
connection with the inclosed patent.
Very truly yours,
Hudson G. Kemble.
“What did you want to scare me for, you murderer?” reproached Tommy.
“Well, doesn't that mean--”
“It means that we've got to consider what we must do,” interrupted
Tommy.
“I'll do nothing,” said Bill, doggedly.
“Oh yes, you will,” contradicted Tommy, pleasantly.
“You fool!” shouted Bill, furiously, “what can I do? How can I do it,
with only an hour or two after dinner? Do you think I can do anything
here when the cold weather comes?”
“Talk to Thompson. He'll find a way. Oh, you needn't think he'll cheat
you. I'll vouch for him”--Tommy spoke savagely--“a blamed sight quicker
than I would for a suspicious lunkhead of an inventor.”
“Yes, he's got you hypnotized,” said Bill, with grim decision. Then,
because he saw in Tommy's face the loyalty that he himself felt toward
Tommy, he went on: “Well, Tommy, I give up. It's all yours. You can talk
to Thompson and get what you can out of him.”
“No, you will talk to him, and then you can come back and tell me I
don't know Thompson. And, anyhow, the time of our discovery is now a
matter of record. Nobody can get back of the priority of claim. I tell
you, Bill, if you must do business, you'd better pick out a man who is
as much of a gentleman in his office as he is in his own home.”
“I'm not afraid,” said Bill, boldly. “But you arrange for the meeting.”
Afraid to talk to Thompson? Tommy almost laughed. Then he remembered
that he himself was afraid to talk to Thompson about one thing!
But perhaps if he did talk to Thompson about it Thompson might help.
Perhaps!
And Tommy, after half a month of peace, once more thought of the secret.