"Well--I'm not just a strong kid, dad. I don't know what's the matter
with me. It seems I'm not like other kids at all. I guess it's been
gettin' worse all these years since I was a baby."
"Worse?"
"I mean--I been gettin' stronger. An' now it seems like I'm
about--well--I don't like to boast--but it seems like I'm about the
strongest man in the world. When I try it, it seems like there isn't any
stopping me. I can go on--far as I like. Runnin'. Jumpin'." His
confession had commenced in detail. Hugo warmed to it. "I can do things,
dad. It kind of scares me. I can jump higher'n a house. I can run
faster'n a train. I can pull up big trees an' push 'em over."
"I see." Danner's spine tingled. He worshipped his son then. "Suppose
you show me."
Hugo looked up and down the street. There was no one in sight. The
evening was still duskily lighted by afterglow. "Look out then. I'm
gonna jump."
Mr. Danner saw his son crouch. But he jumped so quickly that he
vanished. Four seconds elapsed. He landed where he had stood. "See,
dad?"
"Do it again."
On the second trial the professor's eyes followed the soaring form. And
he realized the magnitude of the thing he had wrought.
"Did you see me?"