Martin thought of Lee Garth. In getting in he had practically forced himself past an overworked secretary. Once in, he had found Garth in front of a desk covered with papers.
Garth was not a big man, not an impressive-looking man. You had to think twice to realize the reputation he had won for himself. Pale blue eyes and thin black hair. He looked like a dreamer, or a poet. Not very efficient. Or so he looked.
"Mr. Garth, I'm Martin of the Globe. We would like to have a story about you and about the construction work going on out here. What are you building? A new observatory, a laboratory, a workshop, or what?"
Scoop had smiled in his most winning manner. He had a nose for news and a way of getting it.
Garth blinked at him. He seemed to withdraw his mind from a vast distance to meet the problem presented by the newspaper man. He hesitated.
When he spoke, he gave a hint of the man he was. "Sorry, but I am not interested in publicity."
"Not interested in publicity!" Martin found that hard to believe, even from Lee Garth.
"But why all this construction work? What are you building?"
"There is a need for it. I am not quite certain I know everything about that need, that I really know anything about it, except that it exists."
"What is this need?" Martin insisted. "You've got twice as many men as you can really use. You're working your crews twenty-four hours a day. What is it you need? What are you doing?"