laughed at Santos Dumont, at the Wrights, and at all the other
fellows, who said they could take a heavier-than-air machine, and
skim above the clouds like a bird; but we do it--I've done it--
you've done it."

"Hold on, Tom!" protested Mr. Swift. "I give up! Don't rub it in
on your old dad. I admit that folks did laugh at those inventors,
with their seemingly impossible schemes, but they made good. And
you've made good lots of times where I thought you wouldn't. But
just stop to consider for a moment. This thing of sending a
picture over a telephone wire is totally out of the question, and
entirely opposed to all the principles of science."

"What do I care for principles of science?" cried Tom, and he
strode about the room so rapidly that Eradicate, the old colored
servant, who came in with the mail, skipped out of the library
with the remark:

"Deed, an' Massa Tom must be pow'fully preragitated dis mawnin'!"

"Some of the scientists said it was totally opposed to all natural
laws when I planned my electric rifle," went on Tom. "But I made
it, and it shot. They said my air glider would never stay up, but
she did."

"But, Tom, this is different. You are talking of sending light
waves--one of the most delicate forms of motion in the world--over
a material wire. It can't be done!"

"Look here, Dad!" exclaimed Tom, coming to a halt in front of his