Morgan grunts agreement, tilting his Bowler hat back to reveal his creased forehead. "Personally, I'm with Tesla and Holmes, here. You are Sherlock Holmes, ain't ya? Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Hank Morgan, of Hartford, Connecticut, U.S. of A. Anyhow, I'm with them. There ain't no such thing as magic. Just science we ain't figured out yet."
"Take them colts of yours, Phantom... can I call you 'The?' Or that flintlock Uncle Fritz is lugging around in his back pocket. You take them back a millenium or two and start plugging the locals, you're damn sure gonna get called a witch. If you'll pardon my French, miss. Now we know they ain't magic. Just chemistry and a little American know-how, but the simple mind'll believe anything."