diversion. 

 The porter of the Weldon Institute coolly and calmly, like a policeman amid the storm of the meeting, approached the presidential desk. On it he placed a card. He awaited the orders that Uncle Prudent found it convenient to give. 

 Uncle Prudent turned on the steam whistle, which did duty for the presidential bell, for even the Kremlin clock would have struck in vain! But the tumult slackened not. 

 Then the president removed his hat. Thanks to this extreme measure a semi-silence was obtained. 

 “A communication!” said Uncle Prudent, after taking a huge pinch from the snuff-box which never left him. 

 “Speak up!” answered eighty-nine voices, accidentally in agreement on this one point. 

 “A stranger, my dear colleagues, asks to be admitted to the meeting.” 

 “Never!” replied every voice. 

 “He desires to prove to us, it would appear.” continued Uncle Prudent, “that to believe in guiding balloons is to believe in the absurdest of Utopias!” 

 “Let him in! Let him in!” 

 “What is the name of this singular personage?” asked secretary Phil Evans. 

 “Robur.” replied Uncle Prudent. 

 “Robur! Robur! Robur!” yelled the assembly. And the welcome accorded so quickly to the curious name was chiefly due to the Weldon Institute hoping to vent its exasperation on the head of him who bore it! 

 

 Chapter IV IN WHICH A NEW CHARACTER APPEARS

 “Citizens of the United States! My name is Robur. I am worthy of the name! I am forty years old, although I look but thirty, and I have a constitution of iron, a healthy vigor that nothing can shake, a muscular strength that few can equal, and a digestion that would be thought first class even in an ostrich!” 

 They were listening! Yes! The riot was quelled at once by the totally unexpected fashion of the speech. Was this fellow a madman or a hoaxer? Whoever he was, he kept his audience in hand. There was not a whisper in the meeting in which but a few 

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