But Luther's manners were good, and his raiment above reproach. At present, as the three men sat on the porch, his spruce attire was in striking contrast with the almost shabby garments of Dr. Alton and his son. But Dr. Alton happened to be one of those men who have no need of clothing unless for warmth or propriety. In his head and face and figure were lines of strength and beauty that gave distinction. In his bearing and in all his movements there was dignity and a natural grace. Were he dressed as a beggar at a coronation he would have held his own. As for Cyrus, the last ten years seemed to have made little difference, merely transforming him from boy to man; this change, as wise men have long suspected, being mostly outward. He grew to the usual height, had the usual number of teeth, recited from the usual books, played the usual games, committed the usual follies, absorbed the usual experience from the various victories and defeats of our usual life, still retaining at twenty-one the drowsy eyes and curving lips of his early childhood. Deep within him, however, were aspirations and a strength of purpose that contradicted the languid eyes and boyish mouth. After the greetings, and when various questions had been asked and answered, Dr. Alton lighted his old briarwood pipe, took a whiff or two and said to his son: "And the great idea, Cyrus, any further developments?" "I should say there were! I've got it, father!" Dr. Alton raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't mean----" "Yes I do. I mean just that. I have found it. It's the wonder of wonders. And it works--even better than I hoped." Dr. Alton straightened up and smiled--a smile of surprise and pleasure. Cyrus returned the smile. At the same time his drowsy eyes became less drowsy and in his voice was a mild excitement. "And so simple! Why, I feel like laughing when I think of it. The only wonder is that hundreds of people have never discovered it." "What is it?" said Luther. Cyrus hesitated a moment, as if to be sure of his words. "It's a simple and inexpensive device for concentrating in a space about the size of your two hands any quantity of electrical force." "When you say any quantity, do you mean enough to run a typewriter--or an automobile?" "I mean enough to run a railroad train or an ocean steamer; or to lift this house--or any other building." Luther smiled the smile of doubt. "And the thing is no bigger than your two hands?" "It resembles two metal soup plates back to back." Luther whistled--a short whistle signifying a deficiency of belief. "That sounds kind of--kind of--as if somebody had wheels in his head. How does the miracle get its power?" "From the atmosphere around it." "With no dynamo, nor motor, nor transformer?" "All that is between the metal dinner plates. Why manufacture power when the whole universe is vibrating with it? It is like manufacturing air to breathe."