By the time it reached his ears,--through the instrumentality of Mr.Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate,--it had assumed sufficient magnitude to draw from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer of quite a large sum for the film rights in case Mr.Percival would agree to re-enact the thrilling scene later on.

In fact, Mr.Shine, having recovered his astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was already working at the preliminary details of the most "stupendous" picture ever conceived by man.

His deepest lament now was that he had neglected to bring a good camera man down from New York, so that on the day of the explosion he could have "got" the people actually jumping overboard, and drowning in plain sight--( although he did not see them because of the trouble he was having to get a seat in one of the life-boats),--and the wounded scattered over the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and return of the boats, the storm and all that followed, including himself in certain judiciously preserved scenes, and the whole production could have been made at practically no cost at all.

There never had been such an opportunity, complained Mr.Shine the moment he felt absolutely certain that the opportunity was a thing of the past.
"No wonder he got away with it," said Mr.Landover to a group of rejuvenated satellites.

"He is hand in glove with them, that fellow is.
I wouldn't trust him around the corner.