“Huh! That’s where you keep the press and the queer, huh—and trick mirrors so I see double? I’m going through that trapdoor where those girls went! And if there’s any funny business on the other side, somebody gets hurt!”
The extra officer stepped up on the glass plate, inexplicably empty now. The demonstrator clucked. It hummed. The plate moved—backward! The officer vanished—at once, utterly. As he had come out of the past, he returned to it, intrepidly and equally by accident. Because one of Arthur had kicked the drive lever into neutral, and Pete had inadvertently shoved it into reverse. He saw the officer vanish and he knew where the supernumerary Daisies had gone—also where all embarrassing bank notes would go. He sighed in relief.
But Casey—untangled from the tesseract—was not relieved. He tore loose from Thomas’ helpful fingers and fled to the car. There he found his companion, staring at nineteen Arthurs playing leapfrog over the garage. After explanations the government men would be more upset still. Pete saw the roadster drive away, wobbling.
“I don’t think they’ll come back, sir,” said Thomas hopefully.
“Neither do I,” said Pete in a fine, high calm. He turned to the remaining Daisy, scared but still acquisitive. “Darling,” he said tenderly, “all those bank notes are counterfeit, as it develops. We’ll have to put them all back and struggle along with the contents of the woodshed and the vegetable bin.”
Daisy tried to look absent-minded, and failed.
“I think you’ve got nerve!” said Daisy indignantly.
