Systematically he made drawings and notes as he studied the magnified atoms beneath his powerful lens, and while he sat absorbed in his work, Hoyle’s childish voice piped at him from the doorway.

“Howdy, Doctah Thryng.”

“Why, hello! Howdy!” said David, without looking up from his work.

“What you got in that thar gol’ machine? Kin I look, too?”

“What have I got? Why — I’ve got a bit of the devil in here.”

“Whar’d you git him? Huh?”

“Oh, I found him along the road between here and the station.”

“Did — did he come on the cyars with you? Whar war he at? Hu come he in thar?”