"Your Hydro-Vapor Lift will be pleasant
to ride in when the thermometer runs up in August, won't it?"
Hawkins did not deign to reply, and I fell to examining the plate.
"Look," I said, "isn't that steam?"
"Isn't what steam?"
"Down there," I replied, pointing to the plate.
A fine jet of vapor was curling from one point at its edge--a thin
spout of hot steam!
"That's nothing," said Hawkins. "Little leak--nothing more."
"But there's another now!"
"Positively, Griggs, I think you have the most active imagination I
ever knew in an otherwise----"
"Use your eyes," I said uneasily. "There's another--and still
another!"
Hawkins bent over the plate--as much to hide the concern which
appeared upon his face as for any other reason, I think.
He arose rather suddenly, for a cloud of steam saluted him from a new
spot.
"Well," he said, "she's leaking a trifle."
"But why?"
"The plate isn't steam-tight, of course; and the engineer's sending us
more pressure."
His composure had returned by this time, and he regarded me with such
contemptuous eyes that I could find no answer.
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