"Only my electric motor," sneered Hawkins. "It won't bite you, Griggs.
Come in."

"And what is this big, brass bolt on the door?" I continued.

"That? Oh, that's an idea!" cried the inventor. "That's my new
springlock. Just look at that lock, Griggs. It simply can't be opened
from the outside, and only from the inside by one who knows how to
work it. And I'm the only one who knows. When I patent this thing----"

"Well, I wouldn't close the door, Hawkins," I murmured. "You might
faint or something, and I'd be shut in here till somebody remembered
to hunt for me."

"Bah!" exclaimed Hawkins, slamming the door, violently. "Really, for a
grown man, you're the most chicken-hearted individual I ever met.
But--what's the use of talking about it? To get back to
explosives----"

"Oh, never mind the explosives," I said wearily. "You're right, and
that settles it."

"See here," said Hawkins sharply; "I had no intention of mentioning
explosives to-night, for a particular reason. In a day or two, you'll
hear the country ringing with my name, in connection with explosives.
But since the subject has come up, if you want to listen to me for a
few minutes, I'll interest you mightily."

Kind Heaven! Could I have realized then the bitter truth of those last
words!