them are already disappointed because there really isn’t much to see. A few of them came in campers, as if they were planning to stay for a while. Ben is renting out space for the campers on that farm be bought just east of you, and he has a big parking lot there, too, for the other cars. I don’t mean Ben is doing the work himself. He is hiring people to do it. Old Limpy Jones is in charge of the parking lot and Limpy hasn’t worked for almost thirty years. Best man at ducking a job I ever saw. But Limpy is working now. Likes all the excitement, he says. Probably raking something off the top of the money he takes in. But he won’t get away with that.
Ben will catch him, sure as shooting. Ben is about the sharpest operator I have ever seen.”
“I suppose the fence is finished,” I said.
“Yup,” said Elrod, “a couple of days ago. And the building is up, too. It has a big sign across the front that says
“Ben is our agent,” I said. “For the United States, maybe even North America.”
“But you are there, too. Or, at least, in a little while you will be. And this woman of yours, Rila, she is there. Why ain’t you two handling it?”
“Fact is we don’t live there any more,” I said.
“The hell you don’t. Where do you live?”
“In Mastodonia.”
“My goodness,” he said, “I did hear something about that. Where at is this Mastodonia?”
“It’s back in time. About one hundred fifty thousand years back in time. Mastodons live there. That’s how come the name.”
“Is it a nice place?”
“It should be,” I said. “I’ve never seen it.”
“You’re living there. How come you’ve never seen it?”
“Rila and Hiram set it up and moved there after I left for Europe.”
“What has Hiram got to do with all this?” Elrod asked. “He’s a trifling sort of fellow and never seemed too bright.”
“He has an awful lot to do with it,” I said.
The morning sun was shining brightly out in the parking lot. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in sight.
Elrod settled behind the wheel and backed out of his space.
“Ben told me to drop you off at the parking lot at home,” he said. “Said for you to get into the crowd of tourists and wander up to the gate. The sheriff has some deputies guarding it and sort of keeping order.
Tell them who you are. They’ll be expecting you and will let you in. I have an old pair of work pants and a denim jacket and an old felt hat. You can put them on before you get there. If you don’t waste any time, no one will recognize you. They’ll think you’re just another country boy come to see what is going on. I think you should wear them whiskers, too.”
Five miles or so out of town, we pulled into a town-ship road and parked while I got into the clothes. But I didn’t put on the whiskers. I couldn’t bring myself to do so.
TWENTY
Rila and Ben were waiting for me, with Herb Livingston hovering in the background. In the front room of the new office building, which smelled of fresh sawdust, half a dozen people sat at desks, not doing much of anything.
Rila rushed forward and I caught her in my arms and held her tight. I’d never been so glad to see anyone.
What I had seen outside had been frightening — parked cars lining the road, others ranked in Ben’s parking lot, hot dog, hamburger and souvenir stands, men selling balloons. And people everywhere, mostly standing in groups and gawking, but with a strange sense of excitement. The whole thing was a cross between a county fair and a carnival.
“I worried about you,” said Rila. “And look at the get-up you have on. Where are your other clothes?”
“In Elrod’s car,” I said. “He supplied these.”, Ben shook hands gravely. “There’ve been changes since you left,” he said.
Herb came up to shake hands. “How’s the PR business?” I asked. “I read about you in the London papers.”
“Well, hell,” said Ben, “we needed someone real fast to handle those news jockeys out there when they came swarming in and Herb seemed to be the man.
He’s getting along all right.”
“They’re yelling for a press conference,” said Herb, “but I haven’t had the guts to go out and face them.
We didn’t want to do anything until you got back. I’ve been handing out little press releases. Not really telling them anything, but giving them some small things for new stories. What shall I tell them about you being back?”
“Tell them,” said Ben, “that he returned and immediately left for Mastodonia. That’s something we should always emphasize. He and Rila aren’t here; they live in Mastodonia.”
“Just wait until you see Mastodonia,” said Rila.
“It’s beautiful. So wild and beautiful. We drove in a mobile home the day before yesterday and are all settled in there. We have a couple of four-wheel drives, as well.”
“Hiram?” I asked.
“Hiram and Bowser are there.”
“And Catface?”
“Catface moved along with them. There’s a cluster of wild crab-apple trees just down the ridge and he’s taken up residence in them. Hiram says he likes the place. Says he wonders why he stuck around here so long and never went time-traveling on his own.”
“Let’s get back into my office,” said Ben. “I got some comfortable chairs there and a bottle to break open. We ought to have a drink on this.”
We settled down in the chairs, which were comfortable, and Ben poured the drinks.
“You have a good trip?” Herb asked me.
“I guess it was,” I said. “My French turned out to be a little rusty, but I managed. I had no trouble in Zurich. I’m not used to such things, but everything went all right.”
“Those Swiss,” said Ben, “will always take your money.”
“What I’ve been wanting to ask,” I said, “is who tipped off the press. The news break came a whole lot sooner than I had thought it would.”
“Courtney did,” said Rila. “Really not Courtney himself, but someone he knows who is an expert at leaking news. Really, it was Safari. They put pressure on Courtney. They are anxious to find what the prospects are in the dinosaur-hunting business. They want to know before they talk with us. It makes sense that sportsmen would jump at a chance to bag a dinosaur, but Safari wants to be dead certain sure. They want to get some prospective clients lined up before they start negotiating for our license.”
“It’s too early yet to know, I suppose.”
“We haven’t heard from Courtney in a day or two.
They’ll be in touch with him.”
“There has been a feeler or two here already,” said Ben. “A man was in this morning to see if we could put him into Inca territory before the conquistadors arrived. He wanted to study the ancient Incan culture, he said, but it quickly became apparent that what he was interested in was Incan treasure. I told him to get lost. A mining engineer came in with the idea that maybe we’d be willing to send him back to the Black Hills of South Dakota prior to the gold strike there.
He was quite above board about his intentions. He wanted to skim the cream of the gold locations. Said he had no money, but he’d go shares with us. I liked the man and put him on hold. Said all I could do was pass on the
