“On the subject of Murdwell’s Law?” said the vicar with an air of keen interest. But dinner was now at an end, and as the inexhaustible subject of Murdwell’s Law was at all times a little too much for the ladies of the house, they made good their escape before its discoverer could hoist himself upon a theme which promised to revolutionize the world of physical science. XXV “PLATO apart,” said Mr. Murdwell, as soon as Bud, Edith and Jooly had fled, “or whatever our neighbor’s secret vice may be, he’s got the strongest brain I’ve come up against lately.” “I’m surprised to hear you say that,” said the vicar. “Of course he’s by way of being a scholar, a poet, an independent thinker, and all that sort of thing, but since he’s been knocked out I’m afraid he can never be the man he was.” Mr. Murdwell confessed to surprise also. “I don’t know what he may have been,” he said, “before he went to Gallipoli; I can only say that when I made his acquaintance the other day, it seemed a great privilege to talk to him.” “Very interesting to know that,” said the vicar. “He’s the only layman I’ve met who could grasp, on sight, the principle on which Murdwell’s Law depends. And more than that. When by his request I explained to him as briefly as I could the theory of the whole thing, he laid his finger at once on the weak link in the chain. I could hardly believe that he hadn’t a regular scientific training, and that he hadn’t made researches of his own into radioactivity.” “He probably has.” “He says not. And he knew nothing of my theory, but he said at once that I had only to restate my formula to alter the nature of war altogether.” “And is that true?” “Not a doubt of it. That’s why I’m here, and incidentally that’s why I have such a queer-looking butler. You noticed him, no doubt?” The vicar had. “I’ll tell you a little secret. That man is one of New York’s smartest detectives, and he never lets me out of his sight.” “Really!” said the vicar, drawing warily at a very large cigar. “You see, at present it’s a nice question whether certain people can hand Gazelee Payne Murdwell his medicine before he hands them theirs. That’s what it all boils down to, you know.” “Really!” said the vicar. “If Mr. Murdwell with the help of his committee of Allied scientists can solve the problem of restating his formula in terms of atomic energy, the near future will be full of perplexity for this planet.” “Do I understand,” said the vicar, drawing at his cigar, “that you are trying some terrible experiment?” “You may take it that it is so. And we are already causing sleepless nights in certain quarters. The next few years may see warfare of a very different kind.” “But surely,” said the vicar, “every law, human and divine, forbids further diabolism?” “Nothing is forbidden to science. It works miracles. And it is merely at the threshold of its power.”