"You mean it?" I asked. I found myself puffing; I had not realized I was
straining so hard.
"Yup. That paper has a tensile of 2,800 pounds per square inch, and a
tear strength equally unbelievable."
I looked at the little sheet and great possibilities began to occur to
me. "Clothing," I said. "Great heavens, think what this will do for the
clothing industry. No more weaving. Just run this stuff off on a paper
machine at five hundred feet per minute." I stopped and looked at
Callahan and said, "You will be able to make it on a paper-making
machine, won't you?"
"As far as I know."
"Good," I said. "When can we try it in the pilot plant."
"Well, that's where the problem comes in, Carl. I have to leave for the
West Coast tomorrow, and I'll be gone for six months. There's nobody
else around here to take it through the pilot plant. What's worse, one
of my technicians left this morning to take a job with Lafe Rude
Consultants, Inc., up in Boston. The technician is an ethical man, and
all that, but I'm afraid the word will be out on this paper now."
My heart sank. Callahan said, "I've already started another of my
technicians, John Bostick, on the process to make certain he can repeat
my work. But that's all we can do for a few months around here. The
laboratories have never been so busy. What do you think we ought to do?"
The answer was obvious. "We've got to file a patent application right
away. It isn't ready to file, but we've got to do it anyway."