Adventures in the Far Future & Tales of Outer Space — page 137: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

that he had emerged not from this world but from the misty depths of time long past. The particular joy he took In revealing to these strange people something of the glory of his own day, he thought, was sufficient compensation for the old-time scientific zeal with which he had torn into problems as widely scattered as engineering, chemistry and archeology. Striker had been an all-around man, and was not surprised to find himself at last a musician. The well of melody had not run dry, it seemed, for he was furiously at work on the notation of a Schumann piano concerto in the great gilded study of his house. Maun was quietly reading over the score as he dashed it down. Striker grimaced furiously and crumpled his pencil in his great fist. He swore furiously and steadily in English. Maun looked up mildly. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Letting off steam,” said the man from the past. “Something’s wrong—l don’t Know what. | feel like this sometimes. Whenever it came over me in the old days I'd pack up and see Tibet, or work on something solid.” “Ah.” said the old man. “I have been waiting for this.” “You could tell?” “| could expect it from anyone—especially you, Striker.” The young man rose furiously and paced the length of the room. “What can | do?” he exploded. “I don’t Know your world—I haven’t got my labs—my notes are heaven knows where!” “What was the last problem you were working on before your time-travel machine?” asked Maun calmly. Striker thought for a moment, knitting his brows. “We had a man,” he said at last “Charles Fort was his name—” Another long pause. “What did he do?” prodded the old man calmly. “Tore down the structure of science,” said Striker with a grin. “He made it his job to attack every fact established by research and investigation.” CORniclooo SS CO