“Well, they all have their faults. Either they explode when you don't want them to, or they don't explode when you do want them to, or they're liable to explode spontaneously, or something else. It's all due, as I have invariably contended, to impure nitro-glycerine or unscientific handling of the pure article.” “Yes.” “Yes, indeed. Now, what would you say to an explosive----” “Absolutely nothing,” I replied decidedly. “I should pass it without even a nod.” “Never mind your nonsense, Griggs. What would you--er--what would you think of an explosive that could be dropped from the roof of a house without detonating?” “Remarkable!” “An explosive,” continued Hawkins impressively, “into which a man might throw a lighted lamp without the slightest fear! How would that strike you?” “Well, Hawkins,” I said, “I think I should have grave doubts of the man's mental condition.” “Oh, just cut out that foolish talk,” snapped the inventor. “I'm quite serious. Suppose I should tell you that I had thought and thought over this problem, and finally hit upon an idea for just such a powder? Where would dynamite and rhexite and meganite and all the rest of them be, beside----” He paused theatrically. “Hawkinsite!” “Don't know, Hawkins,” I said, unable to absorb any of his enthusiasm. “But let us thank goodness that it is only an idea as yet.” “Oh, but it isn't!” cried the inventor. “Hawkins!” I gasped, springing to my feet. “What do you mean?” “I mean just this: Do you see that little vat in the corner?” I stared fearfully in the direction indicated. A little vat, indeed, I saw. It stood there, half-filled with a sticky mess, through which an agitator, run by the electric motor, was revolving slowly. “That's Hawkinsite, in the process of manufacture!” the inventor announced. A sickly terror crept over me. I made instinctively for the door. “Oh, come back,” said Hawkins. “You can't get out, anyway, until I undo the lock. But there's no danger whatever, my dear boy. Just sit down and I'll explain why.” I had no choice about sitting down; a most peculiar weakness of the knees made standing for the moment impossible. I drew my chair to the diagonally opposite corner of the apartment, and sat there with my eyes glued upon the vat. “Now, when all these fellows go about nitrating their glycerine,” said Hawkins serenely, “they simply overlook the scientific principle which I have discovered. For instance, out there at Pompton the vat exploded in the very act of mixing in the glycerine. That's just what is being done over in that corner at this minute----” “Ouch!” I cried involuntarily. “But it won't happen here--it can't happen here,” said the inventor impatiently. “I am using an entirely different combination of chemicals. Now, if there was any trouble of that sort coming, Griggs, the contents of that vat would have begun to turn green before now. But as you see----” “Haw--Hawkins!” I croaked hoarsely, pointing a shaking finger at the machine.