“What!” I exclaimed. “Do you blame him?” “Certainly.” “But how was it his fault?” “Oh--you see--bah!” said the inventor, turning rather red. “You wouldn't understand if I were to explain the whole thing, Griggs.” “But I should like to know, Hawkins.” “Why?” “I want to write a little account of the why and the wherefore, so that they can find it in case--anything happens to us.” Hawkins turned away loftily. “We'll have to get out of this,” he said. He pulled at his lever with a confident smile. The Hydro-Vapor Lift did not budge the fraction of an inch. Then he pushed it back--and forward again. And still the inexorable 13 stood before us. “Confound that--er--engineer!” growled the inventor. Just then the Hydro-Vapor Lift indulged in a series of convulsive shudders. It was too much for my nerves. I felt certain that in another second we were to drop, and I shouted lustily: “Help! Help! Help!” “Shut up!” cried Hawkins. “Do you want to get the workmen here and have them see that something's wrong?” I affirmed that intention with unprintable force. “Well, I don't!” said the inventor. “Why, Griggs, I'm figuring on equipping this building with my lift in a couple of months!” “Are--are they going to allow that?” I gasped. “Why, nothing's settled as yet; but it is understood that if this experimental model proves a success----” But my cry had summoned aid. Above us, and hidden by the roof of the car, some one shouted: “Hallo! Phat is it?” “Hallo!” I returned. “Air ye in the box?” said the voice, its owner evidently astonished. “Yes! Get an ax!” “Phat?” “An ax!” I repeated. “Get an ax and chop out the roof of this beastly thing so that we can climb out, and----” Hawkins clapped a hand over my mouth, and his scowl was sinister. “Haven't you a grain of sense left?” he hissed. “Yes, of course, I have. That's why I want an ax to----” “Tell that crazy engineer I want more steam!” bawled Hawkins, drowning my voice. “More steam?” said the person above. “More steam an' an ax, is it?” “No--no ax. Tell him I want more steam, and I want it quick! He's got so little pressure that we're stuck!” We heard the echo of departing footsteps. “Now, you'd have made a nice muddle, wouldn't you?” snarled the inventor. “We'd have made a nice sight clambering out through a hole in the top of this car!” “There are times,” I said, “when appearance don't count for much.” “Well, this isn't one of them,” rejoined the inventor sourly. I did not reply. There was nothing that occurred to me that wouldn't have offended Hawkins, so I kept silence. We stood there for a period of minutes, but the Hydro-Vapor Lift seemed disinclined to move either up or down. Once or twice Hawkins gave a push at his lever; but that part of the apparatus seemed permanently to have retired from active business. “Shall we move soon?” I inquired, when the stillness became oppressive. “Presently,” growled Hawkins. Another long pause, and I hazarded again: