One High-Pockets spoke to me. "Sorry, Mr. Shane. Just came in to say
good-bye. Never realized--"
"That's okay," I said. "You've done your part; I can't squawk."
The attorney spoke up. "Mr. Shane," he said, "I think the affairs of
the Imperial Printing Company are in perilous circumstances. I do not
know what is the meaning of this, but certainly there is something here
without precedent." And if you know lawyers, you know that anything
without precedent is very unholy.
I told what we had done, but he was interested in only one thing. "Think
what a combined suit by these nine-er-twins here would do."
"Nontuplets," suggested one High-Pockets.
"Why"--the lawyer seemed to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the
damages he was visualizing--"that could amount to millions."
I was desperate for an idea, but it wasn't any use. They were taking it
out of my hands. I saw the righteous light in the eyes of those men, and
I knew it was all over.
But High-Pockets--or one of him--spoke up. "Is it your intention," he
asked me, "to keep the time-machine and the extender?"
"No," I said. "I rather thought I'd get rid of the whole business; it's
much too complicated. Anyway, you boys out there came through with
superhuman efforts this afternoon. I don't think I'd ask you to be in
two places at once again."
High-Pockets turned to the lawyer. "If the receivers agree to let the
plant operate as long as it shows a profit," he said, "we'll all go back
together and then you can break up the extender and there won't be any
more trouble. If you don't agree to that"--he paused--"we'll stay in
nine bodies and sue you every time we get a chance."
The lawyer winced. The receivers went into conference. Finally they
said, a little anxiously, "If the Messiers High-Pockets will be good
enough to go back together, and if Mr. Shane will destroy the machine,
we are agreeable to the plant's continuance as a printing office."
"Hooray!" I said, and nine High-Pocketses yelled hooray.
I was exultant. I shook hands with each one of the High-Pocketses as
they filed into the extender. When there was only one left; he shook
hands with me.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing at all," said High-Pockets Jones. "Just got a call this morning
from a print-shop where they're trying to make the men wear
roller-skates so they can move faster. Guess they need me down there. So
long, boss."
"So long," I said. I was sorry to see him go. I locked up the shop--but
first I cut off all the power and got a pig and smashed up Dr. Hudson's
coils and transformers. I wanted to come down in the morning without
seeing double.