Give them a good rate of pay, and let
their hours of labour be reasonable, and those of recreation be
pleasant. Might you not benefit them and benefit humanity at one
stroke?"
"But what form of work could you devise which would employ so vast a
number for so long a time, and yet not compete with any existing
industry? To do the latter would simply mean to shift the misery from
one class to another."
"Precisely so. I should compete with no one. What I thought of doing
was of sinking a shaft through the earth's crust, and of establishing
rapid communication with the Antipodes. When you had got a certain
distance down--how far is an interesting mathematical problem--the
centre of gravity would be beneath you, presuming that your boring was
not quite directed towards the centre, and you could then lay down rails
and tunnel as if you were on the level."
Then for the first time it flashed into Robert McIntyre's head that his
father's chance words were correct, and that he was in the presence of a
madman. His great wealth had clearly turned his brain, and made him a
monomaniac. He nodded indulgently, as when one humours a child.
"It would be very nice," he said. "I have heard, however, that the
interior of the earth is molten, and your workmen would need to be
Salamanders.
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