Not convincing! If he did not find them he was doomed to become a child, and then a babbling idiot of a baby and would disappear entirely within twenty years. He telephoned the magazine's office and asked for the editor.
"Sorrree," the secretary said, "Mr. O'Sloane is quite ill. The doctors are afraid he might not pass through the night. He's very old, you know."
"Can he speak?" Donovan asked desperately.
"He's had a stroke. Can't say a word. Completely paralyzed, Sorrreee."
Donovan cursed the carelessness that had led him to this difficult position. He knew that O'Sloane kept the originals of his favorite stories in a collection in his office. If O'Sloane died it was possible that some enterprising youthful editor would destroy the old manuscripts in a fit of house-cleaning.
"This is Donovan," he said quickly, "I am trying to locate the original copy of "Turn Backward, O Time" which O'Sloane has in his files. I must study the original papers; it's extremely important. If there is a substitute editor, will you ask him to keep an eye open for it."
"Cerrrtainleee."
He sighed and took a taxi to the editorial office. It would be best to get it as quickly as possible. The original manuscript was quite safe. Donovan need only copy the original description. Even if he were no longer able to grasp the theory of it, the machine was still easy enough to build from the description.
Within a few hours he would be back in the 25th century for a reversal. For his next trip back he would choose Ancient Egypt. The 20th century was heading for the Atomic Wars and he was fortunate in being able to escape. After Egypt he would choose the Inca civilization. Did they not have legends of white gods that ruled them? The world was his, and he would be forever young. Immortality was within his grasp. No one could stop him now.
He arrived at the building and rushed up the steps to the editorial office.