CHAPTER III.
THE BAITING OF HERZOG.
Herzog was not long in arriving.

To be summoned in haste by Isaac Flint, and to delay, was unthinkable.

For eighteen years the chemist had lickspittled to the Billionaire.

Keen though his mind was, his character and stamina were those of a jellyfish; and when the Master took snuff, as the saying is, Herzog never failed to sneeze.
He therefore appeared, now, in some ten minutes--a fat, rubicund, spectacled man, with a cast in his left eye and two fingers missing, to remind him of early days in experimental work on explosives.

Under his arm he carried several tomes and pamphlets; and so, bowing first to one financier, then to the other, he stood there on the threshold, awaiting his masters' pleasure.
"Come in, Herzog," directed Flint.