I've always been inclined to putter around with inventions (Pat Morgan
said), and after my wife died I tried to forget my loneliness by
centering my interest on my laboratory work. It was a poor substitute
for the companionship I had lost, but at that I guess it proved my
salvation.
I was working on a new fuel which was much cheaper and less bulky than
gasoline; but I found that it required radical changes in engine design,
and I lacked the capital to put my blueprints into metal.
About this time my grandfather died and left me a considerable fortune.
Quite a slice of it went into experimental engines before I finally
perfected one. It was a honey.
I built a ship and installed my engine in it; then I tried to sell the
patents on both engine and fuel to the Government--but something
happened. When I reached a certain point in these official negotiations
I ran into an invisible stone wall--I was stopped dead. I couldn't even
get a permit to manufacture my engine.
I never did find out who or what stopped me, but I remembered the case
of the Doble steam car. Perhaps you will recall that, also.
Then I got sore and commenced to play around with the Russians. The
war-winds were already beginning to blow again in Europe, and the
comrades of the Soviet were decidedly interested in new aircraft
developments. They had money to burn, and their representatives had a
way with them that soothed the injured ego of a despondent inventor.
They finally made me a splendid offer to take my plans and formulae to
Moscow and manufacture engines and fuel for them. In addition, as a
publicity and propaganda stunt, they offered a whacking bonus if I would
put my new developments to the test by _flying_ there.
I jumped at this chance to make monkeys out of those bureaucratic
boneheads in Washington. I'd show those guys what they were missing.
During the course of these negotiations I met Dr. Stade who was also
flirting with the brethren of the U.S.S.R. Professor Marvin Stade, to
give him his full name and title, and he was quite a guy. A big fellow,
built like an ox, with a choleric temper and the most biting pair of
blue eyes I've ever gazed upon. You must have read in the papers about
Stade's experiments with frozen dogs and monkeys. He used to freeze them
up solid for days and weeks, and then thaw them out and bring them alive
again. He had also been conducting some unique studies in surgical
hypnosis, and otherwise stepping on the toes of the constituted medical
poobahs.
