"Well," I answered, "if you want to know, I think that if all this that's been happening was contrived and worked out by a human mind, then a human mind can discover what it's all about."
He stared thoughtfully at me a moment before he spoke. "It wouldn't surprise me a bit if you've hit on something," he said at last.
"Yes?" I said. "I'm afraid I don't see it yet. I'm just telling you what I think."
"Exactly," said McGinity. "Now, you think something, and I think something. Very good. If we're both convinced on one point, why not join hands, and follow a new line, which may lead us out of all this mystery to something in the way of solution?"
"That," I replied, instantly, "is just the very thing we shall do!"
"Of course, you must know, as well as I do, that it's all highly improbable, utterly impossible," the reporter observed.
"I suppose it is," I answered, "yet the Science Editor of the Times declared only last Sunday that radio signaling to Mars was 'technically possible.'"
"Granted," agreed McGinity; "but that's another question. What concerns us now is what has already occurred—to prove that it isn't true, without injuring your brother's standing as a scientist."
"I've never known a man so positive as Henry is on this Martian radio signaling and rocket business," I said. "He believes it's all true, and I see no reason whatever to think that it isn't. While there's considerable scepticism in the outside world, no one has yet come forward with a clue—not a single clue—to prove that Henry and Olinski are all wrong, or are being duped."
"Would it surprise you very much if I produced—a clue?" McGinity asked.