For five minutes neither spoke. Cosmo Versal swung on the stool, and
played with an ellipsograph; Joseph Smith dropped his chin on his breast
and nervously fingered the pockets of his long vest. At last he raised
his head and asked, in a low voice:

"What are you going to do, Cosmo?"

"I'm going to get ready," was the short reply.

"How?"

"Build an ark."

"But will you give no warning to others?"

"I'll do my best. I'll telephone to all the officials, scientific and
otherwise, in America, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia. I'll write
in every language to all the newspapers and magazines. I'll send out
circulars. I'll counsel everybody to drop every other occupation and
begin to build arks--but nobody will heed me. You'll see. My ark will be
the only one, but I'll save as many in it as I can. And I depend upon
you, Joseph, to help me. From all appearances, it's the only chance that
the human race has of survival.

"If I hadn't made this discovery they would all have been wiped out like
miners in a flooded pit. We may persuade a few to be saved--but what an
awful thing it is that when the truth is thrust into their very faces
people won't believe, won't listen, won't see, won't be helped, but will
die like dogs in their obstinate ignorance and blindness."