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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Black Box"

The
roar of thunder shook the very foundations of the house--and then silence.
For several seconds not one of them seemed to have the power of speech. An
amazing thing had happened. The oak table in the middle of the room was a
charred fragment, the chairs were every one blackened remnants.
"A thunderbolt!" French gasped at last.
Quest was the first to cross the room. From the table to the outside
window was one charred, black line which had burnt its way through the
carpet. He threw open the window. The wire whose course he had followed
ended there with a little lump of queer substance. He broke it off from
the end of the wire, which was absolutely brittle, and brought it into the
room.
"What is it?" Lenora faltered.
"What have you got there?" French echoed.
Quest examined the strange-looking lump of metal steadily. The most
curious thing about it seemed to be that it was absolutely sound and
showed no signs of damage. He turned to the Professor.
"I think you are the only one who will be able to appreciate this,
Professor," he remarked. "Look! It is a fragment of opotan--a distinct and
wonderful specimen of opotan."
Every one looked puzzled.
"But what," Lenora enquired, "is opotan?"
"It is a new metal," Quest explained gravely, "towards which scientists
have been directing a great deal of attention lately. It has the power of
collecting all the electricity from the air around us. There are a dozen
people, at the present moment, conducting experiments with it for the
purpose of cheapening electric lights.


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