When Rogues Fall Out by R. Austin Freeman — Read

INVENTORS are a much-misunderstood class. The common man, in his vanity and egotism, supposes that they exist to supply him with various commodities of which he dimly perceives the need. But this is an entirely mistaken view. The inventor produces his invention because, in the existing circumstances, it has become possible. It is true that he, himself, tends to confuse the issues by persuading himself optimistically that his invention has a real and important utility. His inventive mind goes so far as to create an imaginary consumer, so that he sees life in a some what false perspective. The genius who devised a family Bible which could be opened out to form a billiard table, no doubt envisaged a pious type of player who had need of some means of combining the canon of scripture with a cannon off the red; while, to the inventor of a super magic-lantern which could throw pictures on the clouds, the night sky was no more than a suitable background on which to declare the glory of Blunt's Milky Toffee.

But this is mere self-delusion. In reality, the inventor is concerned with his invention. Its use is but a side issue which hovers vaguely on the periphery of his mental field of vision. I emphasise the fact, because it has a bearing on the events which I am recording. For our invaluable laboratory assistant, Polton, was an inveterate inventor, and, being also an accomplished and versatile craftsman, was able to turn out his inventions in a completely realised form.