Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-10-31


desperate resort
But the experimenter was again alive in
Menlo. He came back to his task day after
day with an mistaken purpose. While seeking
to awaken response IN some of his fellows,
Menlo experimental with his fingernail. He
found that with practice he could quickly and
secretly trace his letters. Thus almost I'M
consciously he began to send out his call
just as one operator in some distant telegraph
station clicks a mOnotonOuS summons until he
hears the answering signal Without knowing
why, he first scratched N on leather disk
and watched it pass into the hands of the next
convict, an i'll looking brute, who growled over
his work and never looked up. Again and
again Menlo sent his n down the line He ex-
pected no sign in return; for he was not yet
ready. He followed the next day with an O,
and SO. in four days. he had slipped before the
eyes of his suen mates the complete word
mote"
Now for the first time Menlo looked for a
response; but none came. He could have
choked each man in that sweltering line for his
stupidity. Menlo felt that the intensity of
thought he conferred on each piece of leather
should burn its message into the very fingers
of those who handled the disks. What dull
clay those fingers must be to repel such vibrant
appeals On the eighth day Menlo determined
on the experiment of thought transference; but
this too failed him. He went back to his work
of sending time after time, letter after letter,
the single word mote"
an the tenth day he received a shock. He
had been sending his signal with unvarying
persistence when for some 1nexplicable reason
the muscles of his neck seemed to draw his head
to the right. He quickly swept his glance down
the line and found pair of dark eyes fastened
on him. A young convict some eight machines
away intently watching Menlo. He had
suddenly received some vague sense OF MEMO
appeal The convict was good looking man
of about thirty-two and possessed an apparent
refinement despite his closely cropped hair and
prison pallor That he was of finer clay than
his fellows Menlo saw at a glance. 1t was only
a flash of the eye that Menlo caught; but it
stung him like an electric shock. His hands
trembled and his knees grew weak. AS he re-
turned the glance, the convict dropped his eyes
and went on with the dull routine of his work
Menlo now varied the form of his signal,
watching the effect of each change. To his un-
utterable Joy he found the convict studying
covertly the soles of the half-formed shoes that
reached him Menlo worked with feveriSh
speed and for the first time realized startling
defect in his system. No answer could come
back to him! He could send his messages; but
could not receive an answer, for there was no
reversal of the process by which the disks
moved from one machine to another,-always
from left to right.
Menlo now sent the letter p, sending it time
after time. then changing to l.. then to E. and
so until he had sent " Please note. When
the last letter started down the line Menlo felt
that it carried the full burden of his darkest
fears and his dearest hopes.
He knew by the difference in the sound of
each machine and each process just how far the
last disk had travelled. He held his breath as
he counted one. two. three. seven. AT machine
number eight hung his fate. Upon the quick
intelligence of its convict operator depended a
life; for Meno felt that he could not and would
not survive the shock of disappointment
For a moment he stood unnerved. and then
shot a lightning glance down the line. The
man at number eight was lookingl He under
stood!
OVERCOME by the wild jump of his heart
~ in the paroxysm of JOY that overcame him.
poor Menlo staggered. A guard rushed upon
him, menacing, alert. Menlo caught his wits
and gasped ut is the heat. Don't take me
awav don't take me away" He could not
bear to leave his task, now that the light was
dawning He was sent back to his CELL and
that night he slept
The next day Menlo went joyful,y to his task
He had arranged in his mind the whole story IN
terse, pregnant sentences, saving every word
every letter. Even then, he realized it would
take several hundred words. and many. many
weary repetitions before it was over. With good
luck he hoped to send it through hands that
touched but did not feel past eyes that looked
but did not see to one who both saw and under
stood. So with infinite patience Menlo began.
That first memorable morning, Number Eight