Flint, meanwhile, took out a little morocco-covered note book and made a few notes.

In this book he had kept an outline of his plan from the very first; and now with pleasure he added some memoranda, based on what Herzog had just told him, as well as observations on the machine itself.
Thus two minutes passed, then three.
"Time's up, Herzog!" exclaimed Waldron, glancing at the electric clock on the wall.

"Where's the juice ?" "One second, sir," answered the scientist.

Again he peeked through the glowing bull's-eye.

Then, his face slightly pale, his bulging eyes blinking nervously, he took two small flint glass bottles, set them under a couple of pipettes, and deftly made connections.
"Oxygen cocktail for mine," laughed Waldron, to cover a certain emotion he could not help feeling at sight of the actual operation of a process which might, after all, open out ways and means for the utter subjugation of the world.
Neither Flint nor the inventor vouchsafed even a smile.