“It can.”
“Pardon my insistence, Mr. Sprague. The idea is so—ah—extraordinary.”
“I realize that, professor. I should be happy to have you see for yourself.”
Professor Palmer pondered. The young man’s story had impressed him, notwithstanding its unusualness. At any rate, he concluded, he would investigate. He could risk no more than disappointment. If there was anything in it, the possibilities for research and discovery were boundless. He found his own enthusiasm rivaling that of his caller as he momentarily allowed it free rein. Why—he might yet prove his own weird theories to the world!
The next moment he smiled at his own indulgence. First he would humor this young man by investigating his wild claims: time enough for dreams afterward.
“Well, Mr. Sprague,” he said, “this is an age of strange accomplishments. I’m going to look at that machine of yours. How will tomorrow evening do?”
A feeling of relief and exultation swept over Robert as the professor spoke. At last his absurd-sounding claims for the life-work of his father had been taken seriously, and recognition of his labors was within reach.
He stammered his thanks, shook hands with the amused professor, and departed.
“That boy believes in the machine; and he is no fool, either,” remarked Professor Palmer after Robert had left.
“The world is full of them,” observed Henry sagely.