Till then, these must suffice." Flint, curbing his agitation, sat down at the big table and turned on the vacuum-glow light, for the October afternoon was foggy--a fog that mingled with the spray of the vast Falls and hung heavy over the world--and already daylight was beginning to fail.
"Fools!" he muttered to himself.

"Fools, to think they can rebel against _us_! Ants would have just as much show of success, charging elephants, as _they_ have against the Air Trust! By tomorrow they'll be wiped out, smeared out, shattered and annihilated, whoever and wherever they are.
By tomorrow, at the latest.

Again I say, blind, suicidal fools!" "Right you are," assented Waldron, drawing up his chair.

"They don't seem to realize, even yet, that we own the whole round earth and all that is in it.

They don't understand that their rebelling is like a tribe of naked savages going against a modern army with explosive bullets.