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Updated: May 9, 2025
Edmund Charles Schinsake was Professor Lightning, but then the American ran his picture; that was the day Professor Lightning was awarded a medal by the AMA, and Charley felt pleased and happy for the old man. It looked as it he'd got what he wanted.
"Come in." In the midst of the riot of wealth, the professor didn't seem to have changed at all. He was still wearing the same ratty robe he'd worn in the carnival, his hair was still as uncombed. It was only on second glance that Charley saw the look in his eyes. Professor Lightning was Dr. Schinsake now; the eyes said that, and were proud of it. And the world agreed with Dr. Schinsake.
Charley licked his lips. "I really don't know," he said. The cabbie blinked. "What?" "I'm going to need some help," Charley said. "I want to find a Dr. Schinsake, but I don't know where he is. If you can drive me to a drugstore, where we can look him up in a phone book " "Dr. Schinsake?" the driver said. "That's the guy who grows things? I mean, arms and legs? Like that?"
Charley sighed and shrugged himself deeper into the upholstery. "You know," Roquefort said suddenly, "I can't help thinking." "Oh?" Charley said, fidgeting his feet. "That's right," Roquefort said. "I mean, all these people. And Dr. Schinsake. I remember once, I went to a circus, or a sideshow." "Carnival, probably," Charley put in, knowing exactly what was coming.
"The same with you. Charley, do you follow the papers?" "I guess so," Charley said. "One, anyway. My mother sends it to me from Chicago. She likes the " "Sure," Ed said. "Well, did you ever hear about a Dr. Schinsake? Edmund Charles Schinsake?" Charley snorted in surprise. "Who do you think you are?" he said. "Santa Claus?" "What?" "Nothing," Charley said. "It's just ... well, nothing.
Charley came into the bright room and stood quietly until Dr. Schinsake asked him to sit down. "Well, now, my boy," he said. "You haven't given me a word since you rang the bell, and I would like to know why you're here. Frankly, you're lucky to catch me in; but we were up late last night, working in the labs. I'm afraid I overslept a little." His eyes shone with the mention of his laboratories.
At the top was a great wooden door with a brass plate screwed to it, and on the brass plate a single name was incised: Dr. E. C. Schinsake. There was nothing else. Charley slipped the shoe off his right foot, and rang the bell. A voice inside said: "Who's there? Who is it, please?" "It's me, professor," Charley called. He slipped the sandal back on. "Charley de Milo. I came to see you."
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