go along with this damn-fool idea of yours! Turn a
perfectly sound, entrenched business into a blue-sky factory? You've
gone crazy, Joshua."

"But it's feasible, Lee! Entirely feasible. All we need is a little
imagination. I've investigated. I've hired the best brains in the world.
I have all the necessary preliminary data. A rocket _can_ be built that
will take three men to the Moon and bring them back!"

"That's idiocy, Joshua!"

"Don't you believe it can be done?"

"I don't care whether it can be done or not!"

"But open your eyes, man! This is an age of development. An era of
movement. We're on the threshold of the big tomorrow, and we can't let
it pass us by! We can't let the honor and the glory go to others while
we sit on our hands and hoot from the gallery! Come alive, Lee! The
world is passing us!"

"I don't want honor and glory. All I want is a sound going business.
Suppose we could put a rocket on the Moon and bring it back? Where would
that leave us? Broke and famous. And laughed at probably in the
bargain."

"Nothing of the kind. We could write our own ticket. We'd control the
gateway to the greatest mineral deposits within reach of Man! Think of
it, Lee. Use your imagination."

"I won't go along with you, Joshua. That's all there is to it."

More of the same; days of it, and finally: "You can have the customers
then, Lee. I'll keep the plant--the physical properties."

"But that's not fair."

"Perhaps not, but it's legal."

"How can I service them--from my basement?"

"I offered you an alternative only a fool would have turned down--"

"That only a fool would accept!"

"--so now I'm going ahead and nothing can stop me. I've got a dream,
man--a dream of a big tomorrow. I'm going to make that dream come true."

"Name it right, Joshua. You've got an obsession."

The end of _Lake and Gorman_....

Joshua turned from the window, then paused and looked again into the
sky. The Moon was up, a round, white will-o'-the-wisp in the clear blue
afternoon sky. He stared at it and the old feeling of affinity swept
over him, stronger than ever. The Moon was, for him, both a goal and a
tonic. Sight of its illusive form could always sweep away his doubts;
straighten his shoulders.

The intercom buzzed. Joshua went over and snapped it. "Yes?"

"Mr. Coving to see you, sir."

"Send him in."

Rayburn Coving was probably the best rocket-fuel man in the world. He
had a little of his sandy hair left, n