Science: Too Specific

Antonio Longoria is a scientific amphibian. A short, myopic Spaniard of 49 who lives in Lakewood, Ohio, Mr. Longoria is at home both in the real world of technological utility and the dream world of Wellsian fantasy. He has devised some ingenious welding techniques, feathered his nest comfortably from his welding patents. He is also a persistent and well-publicized ballyhooer of the “death ray” machine he claims to have invented (TIME, Aug. 10, 1936). Says he, this machine can kill cats and dogs, bring down pigeons on the wing, at ranges up to four miles.

Some time ago Mr. Longoria said he had destroyed his horrendous gadget, would not build another unless the U. S. were threatened with invasion. Last week the U. S. had not yet been invaded, but the inventor, with his eye on the war in Europe, announced that the machine could be rebuilt in four or five hours, that in time of need he would give it to the Government, free of charge.

So long as he kept the nature of his lethal ray secret, it was hard for skeptical scientists to prove that Mr. Longoria was talking big through his hat. But last week he laid himself wide open by announcing: “The ray lies in one of the unexplored frequency bands in the vicinity of the X-ray.” This was a bit too specific. Professor Arthur Holly Compton, the University of Chicago’s famed radiation authority, stated that there are no unexplored frequency bands in the vicinity of the Xray.