Remarkable!"
"Oh, I don't even have to come up here," smiled Hawkins. "See that?"
"That" was a little strand of platinum wire in a niche in the wall.
"That's just a test fuse, so that I can see that she's all in working
order," pursued the inventor, leaning his cigar against it. "There's
half a dozen of them in every room in the house. As soon as the heat
touches them, they melt and set off my electric release--and down
drops the cover of the tank--ball and all. The ball breaks, the valve
at the bottom opens automatically--and down goes the tank, full of
extinguisher."
"Well, I must say it looks practical."
"It is!" asserted Hawkins. "Some night--if the night ever comes--when
you see a roaring blaze in one of these rooms subdued in ten seconds
by the gentle drizzle that comes out of that frieze, you will----"
"Mr. Hawkins, sir," interrupted Hawkins' butler at the door.
"Well, William?"
"Mrs. Hawkins, sir, she says as how your presence is desired
down-stairs."
"Oh, all right," said the inventor wearily.
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