"I wonder," objected Harris.
"Why?"
"Professor Milton is a literal-minded genius, and a bit of a screwball. A more brilliant man has seldom existed on this earth—but he reminds me somewhat of a powerful machine running wild; neither he nor a machine has much judgment."
"But what are you worried about?"
"Remember the time he said 'Nothing is impossible!' and was instantly told to try scratching a match on a bar of soap?"
Edwards laughed heartily. "You bet!" he chuckled. "Milton invented a safety match that would light only when scratched on a soft, moist bar of soap. Nowhere else."
"Uh-huh," drawled Harris. "And a bit of common sense added to that kind of genius might have brought forth a real safety match that might be worth millions to the institution. What I'm a bit worried about is just what angle his rather literal mind will follow."
"No matter. We can stop him once we know—and Professor Milton is not an unknown figure; we'll wait and watch carefully."
Doctor Harris nodded slowly. He was sensible enough to know that the Professor was missing completely and no matter how dangerous it might be, nothing could be done until Professor Milton did something to smoke himself out into the open. He left Doctor Edwards' office determined to keep a close eye on newspaper and a sharp ear on the radio commentators.