A. D. 2000

Cobb examined it carefully and noted its delicacy and the care exercised in its protection from external forces by being covered with a glass globe and surrounded by helices in opposite directions.

Mr. Doane watched his expression, and smiled at his perplexity.

“Simple, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, in construction,” returned Cobb; “but its theory of action upon the distant instrument is to me a total mystery, I must confess.”

“But easily explained, in so far as how it acts, but not why it performs its work,” Mr. Doane answered. “The needle which you see has a mate, and that mate is in the California office. These needles are made in pairs, and, by a wonderful process, made sympathetic. No two pairs are charged with the same sympathy; consequently, no other needle of the whole system of instruments will affect this save that single one in California. The instruments of each pair are most carefully set up at their different stations, so that the needles shall point to the true north; thus the needles are exactly parallel to each other. When the instrument is not in use, the key is left open, and the needle is held back by its spring. Now, if the California operator should close his key, he would cause his needle to be attracted toward the relay magnets; this movement of his needle exerts a sympathetic influence upon the needle in this instrument. It endeavors to parallel itself to its mate. It moves to the right, overcoming the power of its spring, and, touching the stud, closes the circuit, and the sounder records the fact. Opening his key in California, both needles move back by the tension of their springs, and the sounders are demagnetized. The sympathy of these two needles to place themselves in a parallel position, or, more properly, the repulsion of the poles of each from those of the other, is the secret of the sympathetic telegraph system.”

“A wonderful, grand invention!” burst from the lips of Cobb, as he comprehended the almost human action of the two needles. “How could mortal man have discovered such a secret of nature!”

“Yes, Junius; it is wonderful!” echoed Hugh.

“How many pairs of these sagacious little instruments have you in the system?” asked Cobb, after a silence.

“In the United States, 280,000; in the world, 450,000. But more are needed very much, and have been for years,” returned Mr. Doane.

“Well, why don’t you make them?” inquiringly.

“Ah! there’s where the trouble is! Since 1963 no instruments have been made. The secret is lost!”

“Lost! The secret is lost! How could it be possible to lose the secret of such a discovery as this?” and a look of incredulity expressed the doubts he entertained.

“It is a fact, nevertheless, Mr. Cobb; a fact coupled with sorrow to me in many ways. But let us take the drag and return to the house, as it is near luncheon; I will tell you of the accident as we ride along.” A shade of sorrow came over his face as he spoke.

As the drag sped along the grand avenue toward the beautiful home of the superintendent, Cobb listened to the old man’s story concerning the loss of the secret of Jean Colchis’ great invention.

“My grandfather,” commenced Mr. Doane, “was the first superintendent of the sympathetic telegraph system. In 1892, when the wonderful discovery of Jean Colchis, of whom you no doubt have heard – ”

“And with whom he was on terms of the closest friendship,” broke in Hugh, in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

“Knew Jean Colchis! personally knew the inventor of the system I have been explaining to you!” cried Mr. Doane, in astonishment.

“Yes,” from Cobb.

“Ah, yes! I had forgotten your status in this life. You have lived a hundred years; why may you not have known him?” murmured the old man, as if reasoning with some doubt in his mind as to Cobb’s sincerity of expression. “You must tell me of him,” with an eager look; “for I reverence the name of him who conceived this wonderful agent of communication, and placed its power subject to the will of man. To-night, to-night, Mr. Cobb, you must tell me of yourself and of him.”

“With pleasure, Mr. Doane,” returned Cobb.

“Be it so. And now I will go on with my story,” continued the superintendent. “As I was saying, in 1892, when Jean Colchis made his discovery, the government bought the invention from him, and selected my grandfather, who was a Major in the army, to be the superintendent of the system. I do not know what were the terms of sale, or what were the conditions imposed, excepting that only one man was to know the secret of sympathizing the needles; that that man was never to commit the secret to writing or to tell it to any living soul until at death’s door; then it was to be transmitted to only one other, verbally. It is believed that this great stipulation on the part of Jean Colchis was to prevent France from reaping any benefit from his discovery, as he was said to have been an exile from that country.”

Cobb smiled as he uttered the latter words, for the political secrets of Colchis were fresh in his memory.

“For thirty-seven years my grandfather sympathized, in his laboratory, all the needles used in the system. Upon his death-bed, in 1929, at the ripe age of eighty-five, he communicated the secret to his son, who was his assistant in the system. The government made my father superintendent to succeed my grandfather. I was born in 1937, and at twenty years of age became my father’s assistant. It was his intention to leave the secret with me; but, from a stroke of paralysis preventing speech and motion, he died on the 6th of September, 1963, and the secret died with him. On account of my knowledge of the system I was, upon the death of my father, immediately appointed superintendent, and have occupied the position ever since.”

“And has no effort been made to rediscover this secret?” asked Cobb.

“Oh, yes. Scientists throughout the world have worked assiduously, but without success. The government has standing rewards of five millions of dollars for the lost secret.”

They had reached the house, and the drag stopped at the door.

CHAPTER XVI

After lunch a visit was made to the offices of the “Daily American,” the great newspaper of the country. The establishment was situated at the southeastern corner of the city, just outside of section “South America.”

The making of the form and printing of this great paper was explained by Mr. McGregor, the manager.

The items of news and interest from all parts of the world were received at the “World” building by the sympathetic telegraph, and then transmitted by tube to the chief of copy at the office of the paper. Here it was assorted and given to the type-writers. Type, as used in the nineteenth century, had no place in the form of this paper.

Each compositor sat before a machine which appeared to Cobb very like a Yost type-writer, and printed his copy on slips about as long and twice as wide as the columns of an ordinary newspaper.

The paper was prepared, by immersion in certain chemicals, to undergo a change of texture and composition upon the passage of an electric current of 400 volts. The letter arms of the type-writers were connected with the batteries, and whenever, in printing, a letter was struck upon the paper, the current passed through to the metallic bed, leaving a silver-gray print of the character on the paper.

These strips, or columns of the paper, as they proved to be, were set together to form sheets or pages of the “Daily American.”

A little instrument, having a pointer with 100 metallic hairs, each about an inch in length, and each connected by an insulated wire to a sympathetic instrument, was placed on the outer edge of the sheet of paper, which lay flat and smooth upon a copper bed. The 100 little points were so set that they just touched the paper, but not each other; and their arrangement was such that, as the machine traveled over the sheet from bottom to top, every part of the paper for a width of two inches was touched by some one of these points.

Now, the current of electricity which passed through the slips of paper when printed, had not left the letters in clear color, but had changed the metallic composition in the paper into metallic letters.

Another, and one of the most important factors in this new process, was that the letter was metallic clear through the paper, the reverse side of the sheet showing a perfect type-form.

The “Daily American” was printed simultaneously in one hundred cities of the country, and from these cities delivered by train as in former days. Of course it was necessary that each city should have its own type-form, but the size of the paper precluded the possibility of sending such a vast amount of matter to each place and there putting it in type-form.

The difficulty was overcome by each city having a little 100-pointed instrument, similar to the one at the main office of the paper, the wires of which were connected to mates to the 100 sympathetic instruments in the home office; for the special work the needles had been sympathized in 100 sets of 100 needles each.

At 2:45 dial by the time at America, each sub-office had great sheets of paper saturated with the metallic chemicals used to prepare the home-form, spread perfectly flat upon copper beds, and the little traveler in position at the lower left-hand corner of the sheet.

At precisely 3 dial the operator at America touched the key of a sympathetic instrument, and the traveler on his sheet of paper passed rapidly down the entire page. At every sub-office the traveler performed a similar journey, being regulated by a main sympathetic instrument. When the travelers reached the end of the page, they automatically returned to the point of starting, excepting that they moved the width of the 100 points, or two inches, to the right. This was repeated until every particle of the paper necessary for a whole edition had been completely passed over.

The principle, as Cobb learned, was this: The home sheet having metallic letters, and the copper bed being connected with a battery, whenever a point of the traveler touched a letter a current passed to the point, thence to the relay, which caused the sympathetic needle to move to the right. At the sub-office, the mate of this needle also moved to the right and closed the circuit of the local battery; a current then passed down to a point of the traveler – which point was a mate to one of the points in the home traveler – and thence through the prepared paper, changing the composition into a fine metallic line. Whenever the points of the home traveler passed off of a metallic letter the current for that particular point or points was broken, as the paper had been rendered non-conductive after its receipt from the type-writers.

The result was that each sub-office had an exact copy of the original form, made up of thousands of little, fine lines, but so close together as to form perfect letters. These forms were quickly placed in rapid-acting plating baths, and the top surface, or that side over which the traveler passed, plated with aluminum. In thirty minutes the forms were covered by a sheet of metal which held every letter that had been made in the paper by the electrical change of the chemical, rigidly in position; the letters being formed clear through the paper. The forms were now flattened, and then bent over rollers for the great rotary presses. The last act in the manipulation of these forms was then accomplished by decomposing and removing all the paper which had not been transformed into metal. The result of all these operations was that a printing cylinder was obtained exactly similar to the one at the home office. The paper was then printed and distributed as in former times.

Cobb studied all these details very carefully, and left the establishment with feelings of astonishment at the progress made in a hundred years.

“We must have an early breakfast, Junius,” said Hugh, that evening, “for we are to take the Tracer across the sea and visit the metropolis.”

“The metropolis?” echoed Cobb, with a look of surprise.

“Yes.”

“I do not think that I care about going to New York again; not for the present, anyway,” said the other.

“Well, did I say anything about going to New York?” returned Hugh, carelessly.

“But you spoke of visiting the metropolis.”

“So I did.”

“There can be but one metropolis in a country.”

“True,” smiling.

“And that must be New York for this country.”

“And that is not New York for this country.” This with a decided emphasis. “I am going to take you to Chicago; to the metropolis of the United States; to the greatest city on earth.”

He noted the expression of wonder which came over the other’s face.

“And do you mean to tell me that Chicago is a greater city than New York? Chicago, an inland town, to compete with and excel New York, a sea-port city?” and Cobb shook his head as if he doubted the possibility of the truth of such an assertion. “Why, you have told me that New York has over four million inhabitants; has Chicago more than that number?”

“Yes,” returned Hugh; “nearly double that number. By the census finished last June, Chicago had, at that date, 7,345,906 souls living within its corporate limits.”

“Come, Hugh,” pettishly exclaimed Cobb, “that’s a little too strong. I remember that it was estimated, in 1887, that Chicago would have about 1,500,000 in 1890, and if that estimate was correct, this vast population given by you could never have been obtained through ordinary growth.”

“Nor was it, Junius. The growth was extraordinary,” lightly returned the other.

“Humph! So I should say. Why, it is equivalent to a gain of 53,000 persons every year since 1890. Such a rapid growth for so many years is an absurdity.”

“As you please; have it so. But let me enlighten you a little. In 1910 the population of Chicago was 1,800,000 – a rapid but fair growth for a city possessing the surrounding country, energy, resources, and natural attractions of Chicago. But it was after the year 1916, and for the next ten years that Chicago, as well as many other towns and cities in the West, received the greatest addition to its population. After the great cataclysm of 1916 the vast numbers of people who were driven from their homes by the rising of the waters over the doomed area of the Ohio basin, sought temporary shelter in all the towns and cities surrounding the Central Sea. As time progressed and showed the future destruction that would be wrought as the waters rose, the people emigrated in great numbers. The movement was westward, only a small portion going East or to the South. The great cities of Chicago, St. Louis, Minneapolis, St. Paul, and Kansas City received vast additions; but of them all, Chicago, being the nearest and largest, gained the most. From a million and three-quarters, in 1910, that city had over four million in 1930. The rest of her immense population has been gained through natural increase and immigration, being at the rate of about 50,000 per year, or less than one and-a-half per cent. increase.”

“And Chicago is now the metropolis of the United States,” mused Cobb. Then aloud: “Yes, it was to be. The condition and extent of this great republic were factors to cause a westward movement, not only of the center of population, but of the location, even, of the metropolis of the nation.”

“Now, Junius, go to bed and get a good sleep; we will rise early in the morning,” said Hugh, rising from his chair.

“All right; anything to keep me interested,” returned Cobb. “I must have excitement. I feel blue and down in the mouth the instant my interest flags.”

“O, pshaw, man! you ought not to feel that way. You’ll come around all right in time; you mark my words,” and Hugh sauntered off to his room.

It was 17:25 dial the next day, when Cobb and Hugh arrived in Chicago, on the Southern Pneumatic. Taking a drag at the Central Station, they soon reached and were comfortably domiciled in “The World,” the great and magnificent hotel of the metropolis.

“The World” was but one of the many grand and luxuriously appointed hostelries of that great city, but it was nevertheless the leading one. The building was situated upon Michigan avenue, facing the Lake Front. Built entirely of metal and glass, it was absolutely fire-proof; its frontage was one mass of ornamentation in all the colors of the spectrum, yet harmoniously blended. There were 3,000 rooms for guests, each provided with bath, telephone, electric light, dumb-waiters, etc. The parlors were upon the eighth floor; while above them, and covering the entire block, were magnificent gardens, covered by a glass canopy thirty-five feet above the floor.

Here rare flowers bloomed every day in the year, the temperature being uniform; the immense and lofty roof being made to slide in panels, by electricity, thus allowing the natural temperature of the outside air to prevail, when sufficiently high not to be detrimental to the plants. At night the grandeur of the scene was superb when lighted by the electric lamps.

After an hour for their toilet and lunch, Cobb and Hugh passed out and around the eastern part of the city bordering the lake, and here Cobb observed the wonderful growth and curious innovations over his time.

Like New York, the city was a double one, over its central portion, appropriate descents being situated at short intervals for passing from the upper to the lower streets. The great avenues, such as Michigan, Wabash, State, First, Fifth, and Seventh, were provided with rapid-transit trains, in tunnels crossing the river below its surface, and running south to Five Hundred and Tenth street. Electric surface roads were used for cross-transportation, and were similar to those which he had already seen.

The city was divided into four great divisions; or, as they were styled, zenods. Each zenod had its own post-office, court house, police, city prison, and all the machinery necessary in the operation of a complete city. The zenods were governed by a lieutenant-mayor and a council of fifteen members; the city, as a whole, was governed by a mayor and a supreme council of thirty-nine members.

Cobb ascertained from Hugh that it had been found utterly impossible to properly provide for the welfare and advancement of such a great population unless the work was divided, and to that end the four zenods, with their respective municipal corporations, with a supreme head and upper house, had been created.

For three days Cobb and Hugh passed about the great city, the one observing and the other explaining the many wonderful things to be seen.

Chicago was indeed a remarkable city, not only in its vast population, quadruple government, extent of territory and unprecedented increase, but in the application of every known adjunct to man’s welfare, comfort, and benefit.

Leaving “The Wonderful City” and its vast progress for a future and thorough investigation, the two friends took the 23 dial pneumatic for Niagara.

CHAPTER XVII

It was 2 dial the next morning, when Cobb and Hugh reached Niagara. The night was beautiful, but the weather cold, and it was with pleasure that the two men reached the hotel, and ensconced themselves by the side of a real coal fire, as Cobb called it.

The stillness of the night was a source of surprise to Cobb, as he heard not that thundering, deafening roar of the mighty cataract which had always heretofore greeted him upon his arrival at the falls.

The next morning Cobb and Hugh were up early, and, after a hearty breakfast, proceeded in the direction of the old inclined railways where Cobb had so often, in former years, made love and talked nonsense to the pretty girls of Niagara.

A different sight met his eyes as he neared the balcony where formerly the best view of the grand falls was to be obtained. Niagara was still a mighty cataract, but not half the volume of water which had passed over its precipitous edge in former days now flowed over the walls of rock. Where formerly the great mass of surging, foamy floods rushed out over the top to a distance of fifty feet, and fell in one unbroken blue sheet into the boiling torrent below, now was a lighter sheet of white and broken water.

Two artificial streams, one on either side of the river, below the falls, the beds for which had been carved out of the precipitous banks which marked the erosive power of the stream, carried an immense flow seven miles down the river.

Along the banks, and from one hundred to seventy-five feet below the canals, were rows of houses of similar construction and color. From every house, in either line, poured forth a torrent of water which rushed and leaped down the rocks to the stream below. Electric wires and huge cables were to be seen in every direction.

Turning back from the novel scene in front of him, Cobb moved nearer the edge of the balcony, and looked over towards the base of the falls. Great masses of ice rose from the depths below, half obscuring his view; but the field was clear enough for him to ascertain that a new order of phenomena had taken place since his last advent there. It seemed as if a hundred gigantic mouths in the face of the cliff were belching forth mighty torrents of seething, foamy water.

Passing down the stairs to the first landing, which was sixty feet below the brink of the falls, he and Hugh came to the gate of a tunnel in the walls under the falls. The gatekeeper, after a few words from Hugh, touched an electric bell, and a young man who answered the summons was directed to show them about the works.

Niagara Falls had, indeed, undergone a most remarkable change in a hundred years. The face of the cliff, from the Canadian, or “Ontario” side, as it was then termed, clear around to the city, had been pierced by huge tunnels, ten feet in diameter, extending under the rapids above for a distance of 1,000 feet. There were two rows of these tunnels; the first row was 120 feet below the top of the falls, and the tunnels were twenty feet apart. The next row was cut over the walls between the lower tunnels, and was ninety feet below the edge of the falls. Again, above this line, was a row of smaller tunnels, five feet in diameter and 100 feet apart. From the two rows of large tunnels mighty jets of water were pouring out, and breaking into foam as they reached the waters coming from over the cliff.

Cobb and Hugh passed into the tunnel, which was brilliantly lighted by electricity, dry, and much warmer than the outer air. Moving onward, they soon came to the great chambers of the cliff.

“Here, Cobb,” said Hugh, as they entered the first chamber, “here are the first dynamos. This whole cliff, from the front to 1,000 feet in rear, is honeycombed with these chambers. Each chamber has a turbine wheel and a set of dynamos, and receives its water-supply through shafts drilled straight up through the roof into the waters of the rapids above. The water, after working the turbines, is discharged into the great tunnels which you saw emptying from the face of the rock. Of the mighty body of water flowing over the falls, only a portion could be used in this manner, as it was not deemed wise to make more than two rows of tunnels; but to gain as much power from the water as possible, the two lines of dynamo houses along the banks, which you saw from above, were constructed. The little tunnels are for air circulation, and fans are continually moving the air through the whole labyrinth of chambers. There are, in the face of this rock, 200 tunnels, in two rows of one hundred each, and extending back 1,000 feet, or forty miles in total length. Over each tunnel are chambers, twelve by twenty feet, with ten-foot walls between, or thirty chambers along the line of each tunnel.

“Each chamber has a fifteen-inch shaft tapping the water-supply above. Now, the descent of the water is at the rate of 3,840 feet per minute, the fall is sixty feet, and the weight of a cubic foot of water 62.5 pounds: thus the horse-power of each shaft is exactly 400, and the flow-off, in area, one square foot. As there are thirty of these chambers to each discharge tunnel, then an area of thirty square feet flows from a seventy-eight-square-foot escape. But the volume of water from the shafts, owing to its increased velocity, would soon overflow the discharge tunnels if level; to obviate this, they are inclined as much as possible. Four hundred horse-power turbines in each chamber, coupled to dynamos, give 350 electrical horses. As there are 6,000 chambers in the rock, the output, in electricity, is equivalent to 2,100,000 electrical horse-power; this, added to the power generated by the fourteen miles of dynamos along the river, which have 3,650 wheels, brings the whole power utilized up to three and a quarter millions of electrical horses. This mighty current is carried by great copper cables to all parts of eastern United States, and used for every conceivable purpose where power is required.”