Picture Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

22 PICTURE-PLAY WEEKLY "You sent for me, Mr. Pinckney?" "Ah, Marsh — come in ! No — wait ! Is there any one in that outer office?'' "No, sir." "Then fasten the door and come in." "Yes, sir; but what — what is the matter?" asked the nervous little man apprehensively. "Nothing, Marsh. Nothing, that is, which we can't control in time. Mr. Durant has just been in here worrying me again about the Sommers gun. As we get near to finishing it, he's worrying himself about it more and more every day; and he's worrying me more, too." "That's funny," said Marsh. "For it's making me worry a good deal more every day; but for a rather different reason from any which ought to cause Mr. Durant to bother himself." "What do you mean by that?" "I mean, sir, that the more I've had to do with this Sommers gun, the more it worries me for fear it'll drive mine — that is, the Rheinstrum — off to the scrap heap. And I'm not only a theory man like Mr. Sommers, but as practical a man as you, Mr. Pinckney." "Look here, Marsh," exclaimed Pinckney impatiently, "do you know, my man, that the reason we're not working on the Rheinstrum guns now, and paying you your royalties of one hundred dollars a caliber inch on every gun, is that we're waiting to see whether this Sommers gun will stand the test? And if it does, do you know that it will be substituted for yours in the government order?" "No, sir! Then that's the end of my royalties — before they ever begin. Just my luck!" "Oh, not yet! Wait a bit, Marsh! I didn't send for you just to tell you that, man! I sent for you because, with nothing to gain from it myself, I am going to take a rather heavy responsibility upon myself ; and I want you to help me — you who will have everything to gain from it." "A heavy responsibility — what is that, Mr. Pinckney?" asked the little man curiously. "The responsibility of protecting the lives of every gunner in our navy and our forts from — their own guns. No less than that, Marsh! Incidentally, saving you the fortune which properly should come to you from your royalties !" "Why, I don't understand !" "You don't? You haven't flattered yourself that I've been doing all the fighting I've done against the Sommers gun merely to save you your precious royalties, have you, Marsh?" "Not entirely, sir." "I guess not ! I've been fighting against the personal hold this navy lieutenant has fastened upon Mr. Durant, for something a good deal higher than that! I am not here merely to make money from guns for Mr. Durant, and to save a draftsman his royalties ; but I'm here, with my expert knowledge, to turn out the best guns to defend America and protect the lives of our sailors and soldiers. Professionally and personally I would feel myself responsible if we supplied the government with guns which would explode and kill our men. I could not excuse myself for knowingly letting a lot of rotten guns go into our turrets, to kill our own men who fired them in the first action merely because the government ordered those guns. Could you, in my place, Marsh?" "No, sir ; of course not," agreed the little man, still puzzled. "Now, I just told you, Marsh, that Mr. Durant was in here a moment ago to talk over the Sommers gun with me again. I've told him a thousand times that I know that gun is designed upon a totally wrong principle, and you'd admit that you know that, too, Marsh, if your fears weren't always running away with you." The little man made no comment. "Perhaps so, sir," he agreed, at last. "Surely so, Marsh. For Mr. Durant himself has just said he'd stop work on the gun right now if he wasn't bound to finish it and give it a trial on account of his personal obligation to Sommers. But, as it is, he's going to go ahead and try to get this gun past the test and accepted — though he knows it rotten !" Pinckney pushed Sommers' telegram toward Marsh. "And you can see from this that Sommers himself practically confesses that the margin of safety is so small in his gun that he's afraid of letting it be made under the usual conditions. "Now, I can't be sure, if this special test gun is made under a thousand special conditions, that it would not stand the first test. But I am sure that a thousand Sommers guns, made under ordinary conditions, are sure, sooner or later, to explode. They may have enough in them to stand the acceptini test, but they will never stand the straii of service use. They'll be installed ii our ships and shore defenses instead o the reliable Rheinstrum, and the firs time our men really have to fire then to defend our country, they'll b(| slaughtering their own gun crews right and left, killing our own men. anc losing us the war, perhaps." "You believe that, Mr. Pinckney?" asked the little man, alarmed at thepicture which the other held before him. "I know it, Marsh — if you and I show no more sense of our responsibility than to let this rotten Sommers gun be accepted." "But how can we prevent it, sir, if it stands the test?" "Very easily! By making sure that it will not stand the test, Marsh!" "You mean — spoiling it in the furnace?" The little man paled. "I, with nothing to save but my conscience and my country, am ready to do it; you have even more, Marsh. Will you do it?" "How?" asked the little man at last, trembling. "You have charge of the timing of the guns in the furnaces and the bath. How long is the Sommers gun ordered in the final furnace?" "Seven hours, I think, sir." "Exactly. Now, Mr. Durant has just ordered me to have it in the furnace so that Sommers can see it ready for the final bath on Thursday evening. His train is due here at four-thirty. Now, suppose you have Mr. Durant himself see the gun into the furnace at threethirty, when he'll probably be leaving for the station. The gun would then come out at ten-thirty." "Yes, sir. It should have those seven hours at an even, high temperature." "But at once you lower the temperature and do not raise it again till they all come to see it out at ten-thirty. You can fix the temperature records somehow. The gun will come out of the furnace green, and will never pass the test. And you've saved yourself your fortune, and helped me clear from my conscience the murder of — we shall never know how many thousands of our sailors and soldiers." "But— but, Mr. Pinckney." The little man was anxious. "Mr. Sommers can see that the gun is green when we take it from the furnace!"