or the steam-bath. Concentrating all the power of his
highly-trained analytical mind upon the problem--deaf and blind to
everything else, as was his wont when deeply interested--he sat
motionless, with his forgotten pipe clenched between his teeth. Hour
after hour he sat there, while most of his fellow-chemists finished the
day's work and left the building and the room slowly darkened with the
coming of night.

Finally he jumped up. Crashing his hand down upon the desk, he
exclaimed:

"I have liberated the intra-atomic energy of copper! Copper, 'X,' and
electric current!

"I'm sure a fool for luck!" he continued as a new thought struck him.
"Suppose it had been liberated all at once? Probably blown the whole
world off its hinges. But it wasn't: it was given off slowly and in a
straight line. Wonder why? Talk about power! Infinite! Believe me, I'll
show this whole Bureau of Chemistry something to make their eyes stick
out, tomorrow. If they won't let me go ahead and develop it, I'll
resign, hunt up some more 'X', and do it myself. That bath is on its way
to the moon right now, and there's no reason why I can't follow it.
Martin's such a fanatic on exploration, he'll fall all over himself to
build us any kind of a craft we'll need ... we'll explore the whole
solar system! Great Cat, what a chance! A fool for luck is right!"

He came to himself with a start. He switched on the lights and saw that
it was ten o'clock. Simultaneously he recalled that he was to have had
dinner with his fiancee at her home, their first dinner since their
engagement. Cursing himself for an idiot he hastily left the building,
and soon his motorcycle was tearing up Connecticut Avenue toward his
sweetheart's home.

CHAPTER II

Steel Becomes Interested

Dr. Marc DuQuesne was in his laboratory, engaged in a research upon
certain of the rare metals, particularly in regard to their
electrochemical properties. He was a striking figure. Well over six feet
tall, unusually broad-shouldered even for his height, he was plainly a
man of enormous physical strength. His thick, slightly wavy hair was
black. His eyes, only a trifle lighter in shade, were surmounted by
heavy black eyebrows which grew together above his aquiline nose.

Scott strolled into the room, finding DuQuesne leaning over a delicate
electrical instrument, his forbidding but handsome face strangely
illuminated by the ghastly glare of his mercury-vapor arcs.

"Hello, Blackie