The billionaire staggered back, rubbed his head, and then went off muttering: "An idiot! A plain idiot! There will be no flood." CHAPTER VI SELECTING THE FLOWER OF MANKIND After a day or two, during which the ark was left open for inspection, and was visited by many thousands, Cosmo Versál announced that no more visitors would be admitted. He placed sentinels at all entrances, and began the construction of a shallow ditch, entirely inclosing the grounds. Public curiosity was intensely excited by this singular proceeding, especially when it became known that the workmen were stringing copper wires the whole length of the ditch. "What the deuce is he up to now?" was the question on everybody's lips. But Cosmo and his employees gave evasive replies to all inquiries. A great change had come about in Cosmo's treatment of the public. No one was any longer encouraged to watch the operations. When the wires were all placed and the ditch was finished, it was covered up so that it made a broad flat-topped wall, encircling the field. Speculation was rife for several days concerning the purpose of the mysterious ditch and its wires, but no universally satisfactory explanation was found. One enterprising reporter worked out an elaborate scheme, which he ascribed to Cosmo Versál, according to which the wired ditch was to serve as a cumulator of electricity, which would, at the proper moment, launch the ark upon the waters, thus avoiding all danger of a fatal detention in case the flood should rise too rapidly. This seemed so absurd on its face that it went far to quiet apprehension by reawakening doubts of Cosmo's sanity--the more especially since he made no attempt to contradict the assertion that the scheme was his. Nobody guessed what his real intention was; if people had guessed, it might have been bad for their peace of mind. The next move of Cosmo Versál was taken without any knowledge or suspicion on the part of the public. He had now established himself in his apartments in the ark, and was never seen in the city. One evening, when all was quiet about the ark, night work being now unnecessary, Cosmo and Joseph Smith sat facing one another at a square table lighted by a shaded lamp. Smith had a pile of writing paper before him, and was evidently prepared to take copious notes. Cosmo's great brow was contracted with thought, and he leaned his cheek upon his hand. It was clear that his meditations were troublesome. For at least ten minutes he did not open his lips, and Smith watched him anxiously. At last he said, speaking slowly: "Joseph, this is the most trying problem that I have had to solve. The success of all my work depends upon my not making a mistake now. "The burden of responsibility that rests on my shoulders is such as no mortal has ever borne. It is too great for human capacity--and yet how can I cast it off?