"Oh, bother my Christmas, father!" answered Newton with a fine
indifference which he did not feel. "The Motor's the thing! I want to
see that wheel go round for a Christmas present!"

"It will! It shall! It must! I promise you that!" The man was almost
beside himself with joy.

No misgiving disturbed him. He had the faith that tosses mountains aside
like pebbles, now that the means were in his hand. He had the little
fulcrum for his lever, which was all Archimedes required to move the
world. He had in him the certainty of being right that has sent millions
of men to glory or destruction.

That day was one of the happiest in all his life, either before or,
afterwards. He could have believed that he had fallen asleep at the
moment when he had quite broken down, and that a hundred years of change
had glided by, like a watch in the night, when he opened his wife's
letter and wakened in a blaze of joy and hope and glorious activity.
Nothing he could remember of that kind could compare with his pride and
honourable satisfaction when he walked into the bank two hours
afterwards, with his head high, and said he should be glad to take up
the note he had signed yesterday and have the balance of the cheque
placed to his credit; and few surprises which the partner who had
obliged him could recollect, had equalled that worthy gentleman's
amazement when the debt was paid so soon.

"If you had only told me that you would be in funds so soon, Mr.
Overholt," he said, "I should not have thought of troubling you. Here is
your note. Will you kindly look at it and tear it up?"