in solid state physics, whether George Durrant gives his genius to the
nation or whether it gets buried in Dr. William Baker's refuse pile.

But not only George Durrant. Jim Ellerbee, too. And how many others?

Something had to be done.

Fenwick hadn't realized it before, but this was the thought that had
been churning in his cortex for the last hour. Something had to be done
about Bill Baker.

But, short of murder, what?

Getting rid of Baker physically was not the answer, of course. If he
were gone, a hundred others like him would fight for his place.

Baker had to be shown. He had to be shown that high-grading was costing
him the very thing he was trying to find. It must be proven to him that
flotation methods work as well in mining human resources as in mining
metal. That the extra trouble paid off.

This was known--a long time ago--Fenwick thought. Somewhere along the
way things got changed. He glanced toward the Jefferson Memorial. Tom
Jefferson knew how it should be, Tom Jefferson, statesman, farmer,
writer, and amateur mechanic and inventor. It was not only every
gentleman's privilege, it was also his duty to be a tinkerer and amateur
scientist, no matter what else he might be.

Fenwick glanced in the distance toward the Lincoln Memorial. Abe had
done his share of tinkering. His weird boot-strap system for hoisting
river boats off shoals and bars hadn't amounted to much, but Abe knew
the principle that every man has the right to be his own scientist.

And then there was Ben Franklin, the noblest amateur of them all! He had
roamed these parts, too.

Somewhere it had been lost. The Bill Bakers would have laughed out of
existence the great tinkerers like Franklin and Lincoln and Jefferson.
And the Pasteurs and the Mendels--and the George Durrants and the Jim
Ellerbees, too.

Fenwick started the car. Something had to be done about Bill Baker.

* * * * *

Baker leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. "So it worked, did
it? He showed you something that made you think he had a real working
device."

"There was no 'think' about it," said Fenwick. "I saw it with my own
eyes. That boy's got something terrific!"

Baker sobered and thumbed through the Ellerbee file again. "Any freshman
math major could poke holes all through this mathematical explanation he
offers. Right? Secondly, a device such as he claims to have produced
violates all the basic laws of science. Wh