paraphernalia quite willingly and was ready to talk about the method to anybody
who took it seriously; people were dubious about it nevertheless, and
that was natural I suppose. They hadn't seen other accomplishments in
the laboratory that would make anything seem possible, as we have
today. There was a general impression that Hannay had simply got hold
of some ordinary diamonds and shoved them along to the Museum as
samples of his own work. Scientists did try to reproduce his
experiments and his results, or alleged results, but nobody that I know
of succeeded."
"What about Moissan in Paris?" put in the third man. "He had a lot of supporters to his claim."
"It's never been settled," said Mr. White. "Those arguments go on forever, but they've always been inconclusive."
The
man who said he'd been thinking about Hannay was evidently still
thinking about him. He said, "It's my opinion that other people beside
Hannay have made diamonds but were reluctant to claim it, considering
what happened to him. The question's never been resolved."
"True,"
said Mr. White. "I grant you that. And here's another thing that's
interesting—at least it interests me. Hannay's diamonds, it now
appears, are of a very special type that doesn't occur nearly so often
in nature as the usual kind. It's what we now call Type 2, and you'll
find out more about that at the laboratory when you go over today. For
the moment, just remember that only about 5 per cent of all diamonds
are Type 2. The question immediately presents itself, where would
Hannay have got hold of Type 2 diamonds if he was simply looking around
for something to push into his iron tubes and fool the public? Is it
merely coincidence that his specimens should be