“I
don’t think my Pa would try to get me into the Bureau if he didn’t think I was
fit for it …” I began.
“Hah!”
“Well,
what makes you think you’re so all-fired right for the job?” I was starting to
get hot.
“Because
I have a brain! I have real natural philosophical training! I began applying
myself in school to the subject, and I have spent every waking hour since in
reading, digesting, and pondering every new discovery that the genius of Man is
making!” Now he was starting to get hot, and practically preaching. He held his
hands up to his head as if to contain his mighty brain.
“I
am always thinking, thinking, thinking, and there is no reliance on antique
fairy tales and no metaphysical mustiness in my head. If I were an
agent, I’d soon put this department on a firm scientific basis, and no mistake!
This is the Age of Reason, by God, and there is no room for ghost stories
anymore.” He thumped his fist into his palm with a smack.
I
looked at him, eyes wide.
“Well
then,” I said, sitting back, voice bland. “I think you may have come to the wrong place, friend.”
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