Traffic in Souls: A Novel of Crime and Its Cure — John Shaqi
Traffic in Souls: A Novel of Crime and Its CureBall, Eustace Hale
General
Traffic in Souls: A Novel of Crime and Its Cure
Ball, Eustace Hale
Crime -- Fiction
"What is it? I'm not very good at getting mechanical drawings. It
looks as though it ought to be very important from all the wheels," he
said, with a smile of interest.
Spreading out the largest of his drawings, old Barton pointed out the
different lines.
"This may look like a mince pie of cogs here, but when it is put into
shape it will be a simple little arrangement. This is a recording
instrument which combines the phonograph and the dictagraph. One
purpose--the most practical, is that a business man may dictate his
letters and memoranda while sitting at his desk, in his office, instead
of having a machine with a phonograph in his private office taking up
space and requiring the changing of records by the dictator--which is
necessary with the present business phonograph. All that will be
necessary is for him to speak into a little disc. The sound waves are
carried by a simple arrangement of wiring into his outer office, or
wherever his stenographer works. There, where the space is presumably
cheaper and easier of access than the private office, the receiving end
of the machine is located. Instead of one disc at a time--limited to a
certain number of letters--the machine has a magazine of discs,
something like the idea of a repeating letter. Automatically the disc,
which is filled, is moved up and a fresh disc takes its place. This
goes on indefinitely, as you might say. A man can dictate two hundred
letters, speaking as rapidly as he thinks. He never has to bother over
changing his records. The girl at the other end of the wire does that
when the machine registers that the supply is being exhausted. She in
turn uses the discs on the regular business phonograph, or, as this is
intended for large offices, where there are a great many letters, and
consequently a number of stenographers, she can assign the records to
the different typists."
"Why, that is wonderful, Mr. Barton!" exclaimed Burke. "It ought to
make a fortune for you if it is backed and financed right. Why didn't
anyone think of it before?"
Barton smiled, and caressed his drawing affectionately.
"Mr. Burke, the Patent Office is maintained for men who think up things
that some fellow should have thought of before! The greatest
inventions are apparently the simplest. That's what makes them hard to
invent!"
He pointed to another drawing.
"That has a business value, too, and I hope to get the proper support
when I have completed my models. You know, a scientific man can see
all these things on the paper, but to the man with money they are pipe
dreams until he sees the wheels go 'round."
He now held out his second drawing, which was easier to understand, for
it was a sketch of his appliance, showing the outer appearance, and
giving a diagonal section of a desk or room, with a wire running
through a wall into another compartment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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