so I couldn't test it for a week.
When I did I started working nights to see if I could duplicate my
results. Just finished this morning. Here's the hand sheet, the second
one."

He handed me a sheet of paper, snow-white in color. I put aside my
pencil and notebook to examine it. As I took it in my hand it was
obvious that it was something unusual. It was softer than a cleansing
tissue, and probably even more flexible. I rubbed it between my fingers,
and it had the most remarkable feel of any paper I had ever felt--soft
and clinging and cool, and exceedingly pleasant. I knew the paper
chemists called this property "hand." Callahan's paper had the most
remarkable hand I had ever seen.

"Tear it in half," Callahan said.

* * * * *

I took the sheet between my thumbs and forefingers and gingerly pulled,
expecting the light and soft sheet to part easily. Nothing happened. I
pulled harder, and still nothing. I smiled at Callahan, got a better
grip, and gave it a yank. Then I twisted opposite corners around my
fingers and frankly pulled at it. The absurd sheet refused to tear, and
I realized how ridiculous I must look to Callahan to be unable to tear a
flimsy sheet of paper. I suppose I lost my temper a little. I gathered
as much of the paper as I could in each hand, bent over to put my hands
on the inside of my knees, and pulled until I heard my back muscles
crack. I let out my breath explosively and looked helplessly at
Callahan.

He said, "Don't feel bad, Carl. Nobody has been able to tear it."

"You mean it?" I asked. I found myself puffing; I had not realized I was
straining so hard.

"Yup. That paper has a tensile of 2,800 pounds per square inch, and a
tear strength equally unbelievable."

I looked at the little sheet and great possibilities began to occur to
me. "Clothing," I said. "Great heavens, think what this will do for the
clothing industry. No more weaving. Just run this stuff off on a paper
machine at five hundred feet per minute." I stopped and looked at
Callahan and said, "You will be able to make it on a paper-making
machine, won't you?"

"As far as I know."

"Good," I said. "When can we try it in the pilot plant."

"Well, that's where the problem comes in, Carl. I have to leave for the
West Coast tomorrow, and I'll be gone for six months. There's nobody
else around here to take it through the pilot plant. What's worse, one
of my technicians left this morning to