"If I may finish the demonstration, sir," he said hopefully.
"I blow out this match, and put it on the glass plate between the ends of the horseshoe.
The temperature's right, so it should work."
There were self-satisfied clucking sounds from the base of the machine. They went on for seconds.
The huge glass plate suddenly revolved perhaps the eighth of a revolution.
A humming noise began.
It stopped.
Suddenly there was another burnt safety match on the glass plate.
The machine began to cluck triumphantly.
"You see, sir?" said Thomas.
"It's produced another burnt match.
Dragged it forward out of the past, sir.
There was a burnt match at that spot, until the glass plate moved a few seconds ago.
Like the girl and the banana peel, sir. The machine went back to the place where the match had been, and then it went back in time to where the match was, and then it brought it forward."
The plate turned another eighth of a revolution.
The machine clucked and hummed.
The humming stopped. There was a third burnt match on the glass plate.
The clucking clatter began once more.
"It will keep that up indefinitely, sir," said Thomas hopefully.
"I begin," said Pete, "to see the true greatness of modern science.
With only two tons of brass and steel, and at a cost of only a couple of hundred thousand dollars and a lifetime of effort, my Uncle Robert has left me a machine which will keep me supplied with burnt matches for years to come!
Thomas, this machine is a scientific triumph!"
Thomas beamed. "Splendid, sir!
I'm glad you approve.
And what shall I do about lunch, sir?"
The machine, having clucked and hummed appropriately, now produced a fourth burnt match and clucked more triumphantly still. It prepared to reach again into the hitherto unreachable past. Pete looked reproachfully at the servant he had apparently inherited.
He reached in his pocket and drew out his forty cents.
Then the machine hummed.
Pete jerked his head and stared at it.
"Speaking of science, now," he said an instant later. "I have a very commercial thought.
I blush to contemplate it."
He looked at the monstrous, clucking demonstrator of the fourth dimension.
"Clear out of here for ten minutes, Thomas.
I'm going to be busy!"
Thomas vanished.
Pete turned off the demonstrator.
He risked a nickel, placing it firmly on the inch-thick glass plate.
The machine went on again.
It clucked, hummed, ceased to hum—and there were two nickels.
Pete added a dime to the second nickel.
At the end of another cycle he ran his hand rather desperately through his hair and added his entire remaining wealth—a quarter.
Then, after incredulously watching what happened, he began to pyramid.
Thomas tapped decorously some ten minutes later.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said hopefully.
"About lunch, sir—"
Pete turned off the demonstrator. He gulped.
"Thomas," he said in careful calm, "I shall let you write the menu for lunch.
Take a basketful of this small change and go shopping.
And—Thomas, have you any item of currency larger than a quarter?
A fifty-cent piece would be about right.