invention. To all his questions Septimus
returned satisfactory answers. He could find no flaw in the gun. Yet in his
heart he felt that the expert would put his finger on the weak spot and
consign the machine to the limbo of phantasmagoric artillery.

"If it is all you say, there's a fortune in it," said he.

"There's no shadow of doubt about it," replied Septimus. "I'll send
Wiggleswick over with the model to-morrow, and you can see for yourself."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't know," said Septimus, in his usual manner. "I never know what to
do with things when I invent them. I once knew a man in the Patent Office
who patented things for me. But he's married now and gone to live in
Balham."

"But he's still at the Patent Office?"

"Perhaps he is," said Septimus. "It never occurred to me. But it has never
done me any good to have things patented. One has to get them taken up.
Some of them are drunk and disorderly enough for them to be taken up at
once," he added with his pale smile. He continued: "I thought perhaps you
would replace the big-caliber guns in our contract by this one."

Sypher agreed with pleasure to the proposal. He knew a high military
official in the Ordnance Department of the War Office who would see that
the thing was properly considered. "If he's in town I'll go and see him at
once."

"There's no hurry," said Septimus. "I shouldn't like you to put yourself
out. I know you're a very busy man. Go in any time you happen to be
passing. You are there pretty often: now, I suppose."

"Why?"

"My friend Hegisippe Cruchot gave you an idea in Paris--about soldiers'
feet. How is it developing?"

Sypher made a wry face. "I found, my dear Dix, it was like your guns of
large caliber." He rose and walked impatiently about the room. "Don't let
us talk about the Cure, there's a dear fellow. I come down here to forget
it."

"Forget it?"

Septimus stared at him in amazement.

"Yes. To clear my mind and brain of it. To get a couple of nights' sleep
after the rest of the week's nightmare. The concern is going to hell as
fast as it can, and"--he stopped in front of Septimus and brought down his
hands in a passionate gesture--"I can't believe it. I can't believe it!
What I'm going through God only knows."

"I at least had no notion," said Septimus. "And I've been worrying you
with my silly twaddle about babies and guns."

"It's a godsend for me to hear of anything save ruin and the brea