Along a battle front of five hundred miles in the west and of seven or eight hundred in the east messages were flashing, on wires by telephone and telegraph and then on nothing but the pulsating air.
John, who had been compelled to deal so much with these invisible agencies felt them now about him.

He had a highly sensitive mind like a photographic plate that registered everything, and when he opened the window that he might see better and admit the fresh air, he did not have to reach out for knowledge.

It came, and registered itself upon that delicate and imaginative mind.

He had thought so much and he had striven so hard to see and to divine what lay before him that he felt almost able to send messages of his own through the air, messages of hope winging their way directly to Julie.
The mind of man is a strange thing.

It may be a godlike instrument, the powers of which are yet but little known.