Beason, and the longer I live the more firmly I believe that there is
such a thing as an intuitive sense of truth. If there isn't, why is Dr.
Hubers a greater man than I am?"--and with that he left him, smiling a
little at how it had never occurred to Beason to say anything polite.
Beason was in truth much perturbed. It was not pleasing to have the
greatness of his idol explained on unscientific principles. He did not
like that idea of the jumps. Jumping sounded unscientific, and what could
be worse than to say of a man that he was not scientific? Preposterous to
say the greatest things of science were achieved by unscientific methods!
To-day Dr. Hubers had been all afternoon alone in his laboratory. Some
one had brought him in some luncheon at noon, but since one o'clock the
door had not opened, and now it was almost five. What was going on in
there? Even Beason had the imagination to wonder.
Could he have seen he would not have been much enlightened. The man was
sitting before a table, his arms reaching out in front of him--some
tubes, his microscope, other things he had been working with within
reach, but unheeded now.
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