"Do you think so, Bill? The submarine, the airplane, the radio—all were absurd, all were preposterous, Bill, until men got them. And many other things, too. Why, it was only yesterday that the sphericity of this old world that we inhabit ceased to be absurd, ceased to be preposterous. Don't be too sure, old tillicum. Remember the oft-repeated observation of Hamlet:
"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"
"That is true enough. But this is different. This isn't philosophy or something in philosophy. This—"
"Awaits us!" said Milton Rhodes. "The question of prime importance to us now is if we can find the way to that place whence the angel and the demon came; for, so it seems to me, there can be little doubt that it is only on rare occasions, on very rare occasions, that these strange beings appear on the mountain."
"It is," Scranton remarked, "as, of course, you know, against the rules to take any firearm into the Park; but, if I were you, I should never start upon this enterprise without weapons."
"You may rest assured on that point," Milton told him: "we will be armed. The hazardous possibilities of this very strange problem that we are going to endeavor to solve justifies this infraction of the rule."
"Well," said Scranton, suddenly rising from his chair, "you are doubtless anxious to start your preparations at once, and I am keeping you from them. There is one thing, though, Mr. Rhodes, that I, that—"
He paused, and a look of trouble, of distress settled upon his pale, pinched features.
"What is it?" Milton Rhodes queried.