A. D. 2000. Fuller Alvarado Mortimer
how had their love ripened, these two of years so wide apart? Simply and easily enough. In one of his loving moods, Junius Cobb, in kissing her good-night, had said:
“Marie, I will wait until you grow up, and marry you!”
“Will you?” she had replied, laughing, yet earnestly. “Then, I accept you, Mr. Cobb, and will grow just as fast as I can.”
Very simple, and very easy.
“Marie, little darling,” and Cobb’s voice was sad and low, “to-night I go far away. To-night we must part; but my sacred promise I give you, my girl darling, that when I return, you shall be my wife, if living.”
He knew his deception, but it was better, he thought, to let her live without the knowledge of the utter impossibility of the fulfillment of her hopes, than to tell her the truth, and break her heart. She would outgrow her girlish love, he argued, and time would soften, if not deaden, the sorrow of his continued absence.
For a half-hour they talked, they loved, this man of thirty-three and the girl of seventeen.
Who can fathom the mysteries of love!
Leaving her in sorrow at his coming departure, but hopeful for the future, he moved toward the workshop of Colchis, while a choking sensation surrounded his heart, and tears filled his eyes.
Turning the knob of the last door at the end of the hall, Cobb entered, and found his friend moving toward him.
The room was lighted by four Edison incandescent lamps, one in each corner, besides an arc light directly over a large and peculiar machine from which sparks were incessantly being emitted.
Like all true workers in electricity, Colchis’ apartments were a net-work of wires, while the various parts of the house were connected, in one way or another, for quick communication. The answer to the summons which Cobb had made at the door was given by a speaking-tube, while the door itself opened and closed by magnets; thus Colchis was enabled to remain in his room while answering the calls at his door made by the few who had occasion to visit him.
“Ah, Junius, my boy, welcome to the shop!” and the old man grasped the latter’s hand. “I was expecting you this morning, sure; for it is now over forty-eight hours since you were here. What has kept you away?”
“Duty, master; duty.” Cobb had early used the term master, in token of the ability of his old but generous friend.
“I was engaged the past two nights, and it was impossible for me to get here; but how progresses the work? Are you making a good showing, for you know the time is drawing near when I shall want the full amount.”
“Yes; there are nearly eight pounds ready for you when you desire to take them.”
“Good! It is close to the amount, I must say; and the batteries are still at it, I see.”
“Will you take a look at the work of the day?”
“Yes; but yet, master, you know that I do not pretend to pass upon your work. I am too well satisfied that it is being well done.”
They moved toward the sparkling and crackling instrument near the further corner of the room.
In reality, it was not what would be called an instrument, but a veritable manufacturing machine, turning out its products, small though they were, in the most perfect manner, and ceasing in its work but for a brief time during the whole twenty-four hours. This was the decomposing machine which Colchis and Cobb had devised and made for the concentrating of the ozone in the air. It was a rude affair, in one sense of the word, for neither of them had had any experience in making such machinery before; yet it was marvelous in other respects, for it accurately performed the duty for which it had been constructed. Standing upon four legs, was a glass case, about sixteen inches square by twenty deep, in the upper portion of which was a separate compartment with a glass bottom, having a hole some eight inches square through its center; on each side of this hole, with the points about one-sixteenth of an inch apart, were ten platinum wires, while the opening in the top terminated in a common stove-pipe, which was run into the chimney. Entering at the bottom of the case was a two-inch pipe, connected with a large double-cylinder air-pump, which in turn was coupled to a pony motor worked by storage batteries.
Along the other side of the room were twenty-four cases, each containing four accumulators of under .005-ohm internal resistance. These batteries were, individually, capable of developing 350 ampere hours of work, and each cell had an electromotive force of eight volts. A part of this battery was attached to the platinum points in the inside of the case, while the remainder was used to work the pump, feed the lamps in the house, etc.
The pump was an ordinary compressor of two cylinders, each cylinder having a capacity of 1,000 cubic inches. The total power exerted was 3,000 pounds every six-tenths of a second, or about thirteen actual horse power.
The air being received into the cylinder, was forced into the glass case through the pipe in the bottom, and under a pressure of two atmospheres; thus delivering, every three minutes, 200,000 cubic inches of air. The air, in rising, passed through the aperture above and out through the pipe, which was provided with a valve opening at a pressure of thirty-five pounds per square inch. Between the platinum points, by means of an automatic break, were continually being sent a series of electric sparks, causing the air to be deprived of its ozone, which fell in vapor to the bottom of the glass case, and there formed into crystals of various sizes.
The machinery which Colchis and Cobb had erected was not perfect by any means, and the consequence was that they could not save all of the ozone in any given quantity of air. They did the best they could, saving about fifty per cent.
The air-pumps were capable of driving through the reduction chamber over 80,000,000 cubic inches, or 4,000 pounds of air in every twenty hours; but this vast amount yielded only 400 grains of ozone. The expenditure of force for the result obtained was enormous; but there was no other method for them to get the amount of ozone required, except with greater power and cost.
Early in July, Cobb had gained the assistance of Colchis to manufacture these crystals, and had put in the reducer, pumps, and motor immediately after.
Every evening at six o’clock, and every morning at five, a team drove up to Colchis’ back gate, delivering new storage batteries and taking away the old ones.
Day after day, from seven in the morning until five in the afternoon, and from seven in the afternoon until five in the morning, since the 5th of August, the manufacture had been going on; making one hundred and twelve days’ work up to the morning in question – November 25, 1887.
“Master, this is the 25th of August, is it not?”
“Yes, Junius.”
“And you say the quantity that I asked for is nearly ready?”
“Nearly. At five o’clock to-morrow morning I will have 45,000 grains.”
“Good! That is the amount, exactly.”
“But at first you desired only seven pounds; I would have had that some time ago.”
“Yes, master; but I did not care to have you stop at the exact amount; circumstances might cause me to wish for more, at the last moment.”
“It has been incessant work for the machines, I can assure you; but they have done splendidly;” and Colchis laid his hand lovingly upon the reducer, near which he was standing.
“Colchis, how can I ever repay you for the time you have given to the manufacture of these crystals?” and Cobb took up a glass bottle with a sealed top containing a pound of ozone, the result of over two weeks’ constant work.
“Say nothing about pay, my dear boy; it has cost you enough already, I fear; for the continual recharging of all these accumulators must take no small sum.”
“True; it has taken quite a little fortune, to me at least, to obtain these eight pounds of ozone; but I hope the money has been well expended.”
“Junius,” and Colchis laid his hand upon the other’s shoulder, “you have never told me what you are going to do with all this ozone. Is there a secret about