"But they will, they must, listen to you," said Joseph Smith eagerly.

"They _won't_, but I must _make_ them," replied Cosmo Versal.
"Anyhow, I must make a few of the best of them hear me. The fate of a
whole race is at stake. If we can save a handful of the best blood and
brain of mankind, the world will have a new chance, and perhaps a better
and higher race will be the result. Since I can't save them all, I'll
pick and choose. I'll have the flower of humanity in my ark. I'll at
least snatch that much from the jaws of destruction."

The little man was growing very earnest and his eyes were aglow with the
fire of enthusiastic purpose. As he dropped his head on one side, it
looked too heavy for the stemlike neck, but it conveyed an impression of
immense intellectual power. Its imposing contour lent force to his
words.

"The flower of humanity," he continued after a slight pause. "Who
composes it? I must decide that question. Is it the billionaires? Is it
the kings and rulers? Is it the men of science? Is it the society
leaders? Bah! I'll have to think on that. I can't take them all, but
I'll give them all a chance to save themselves--though I know they won't
act on the advice."

Here he paused.

"Won't the existing ships do--especially if more are built?" Joseph
Smith suddenly asked, interrupting Cosmo's train of thought.

"Not at all," was the reply. "They're not suited to the kind of
navigation that will be demanded. They're not buoyant enough, nor