prove it! We take a journey to the stars! Want to make your reservations
now?"

"You mean," said West incredulously, "a genuine trip? Why?"

Cochrane snapped at him suddenly.

"Because I can't kid myself any more," he rasped. "I've found out how
little I count in the world and the estimation of Kursten, Kasten,
Hopkins and Fallowe! I've found out I'm only a little man when I thought
I was a big one, and I won't take it! Now I've got an excuse to try to
be a big man! That's reason enough, isn't it?"

Then he glared around the small laboratory under the dust-heap. He was
irritated because he did not feel splendid emotions after making a
resolution and a plan which ought to go down in history--if it worked.
He wasn't uplifted. He wasn't aware of any particular feeling of being
the instrument of destiny or anything else. He simply felt peevish and
annoyed and obstinate about trying the impossible trick.

It annoyed him additionally, perhaps, to see the expression of
starry-eyed admiration on Babs' face as she looked at him across the
untidy laboratory table, cluttered up with beer-cans.




CHAPTER THREE