ugh.

Some men seem designed only for action. They are out of step with the
modern era. They should have lived centuries ago when the world was more
a place of physical, and less of purely mental, rivalry.

Jim was of this sort. Each time he returned from some trip--to Siberia,
the Congo, the mountainous wilderness of the Caucasus--he was going to
settle down and stop hopping about the globe from one little-known and
dangerous spot to another. Each time, in a matter of weeks, he grew
restless again, spoiling for action. Then came another impulsive
journey.

He was spoiling for action now. He didn't really care what happened that
evening, what was planned. His question was simply a bored protest at a
too tame existence--a wistful hope that Denny might lighten his boredom,
somehow.

"What are we going to do to-night?"

"Well," said Denny solemnly, "Mrs. Van Raggan is giving a reception this
evening. We might go there and meet all the Best People. There is a
lecture on the esthetics of modern art at Philamo Hall. Or we can see a
talkie--"

"My Lord!" fumed Jim. Then: "Kidding aside, can't you dig up something
interesting?"

"Kidding aside," said Dennis, in a different tone, "I have dug up
something interesting. We're going to visit a friend of mine, Matthew
Breen. A young man, still unknown, who, in my opinion, is one of our
greatest physicists. Matt is a kind of savage, so he may take to you. If
he does--and if he's feeling in a good humor--he may show you some
laboratory stunts that will afford you plenty of distraction. Come
along--you're wearing out my rugs with your infernal pacing up and
down!"

* * * * *

Matt Breen's place was in a ratty part of the poorer outskirts of town;
and his laboratory was housed by what had once been a barn. But place
and surroundings were forgotten at sight of the owner's face.

Huge and gaunt, with unblinking, frosty gray eyes, looking more like an
arctic explorer than a man of science, Matt towered over the average man
and carelessly dominated any assembly by sheer force of mentality. He
even towered a little over big Jim Holden now, as he absently shook
hands with him.

"Come in, come in," he said, his voice vague. And to Denny: "I'm busy as
the devil, but you can watch over my shoulder if you want to. Got
something new on. Great thing--though I don't think it'll have any
practical meaning."

The two padded after him along a dusty hallway