"He's found it," croaked Thomas. "He's found it!"
"And you're a mess."
"That I am," said Thomas shaking off some of the gluck that was
trickling down his arm. "That I am."
"Don't you mind?"
"I have my own revenge. My own, particular means of revenge. I'm sorry,
Elaine. I must now leave you. The engineer has had his fun--now, my
sweet, he may have the compensating task of cleaning up!"
Thomas turned and found the little tungsten box with its label: BE AN
ENGINEER! and pressed the button.
* * * * *
Tom Lionel, Consulting Engineer, removed his finger from the button,
and turned to see Elaine.
"Was it funny?" he asked.
"Very much so," she laughed.
"Who pushed it?"
"I did."
"Too bad. I'd rather he got it by his own machinations."
"He tried to stop me--"
"Uh-huh. Maybe it's better the way it is," Tom laughed in spite of
the load of uncomfort he was carrying. He wiped some of the oil and
tar mixture from his face and continued. "The instantaneous feeling of
horror at the idea of seeing you glucked over with this mess must have
given him some shock. No doubt he thought that whatever would happen
would happen to the holder of the epicenter locator."
"Now what are you going to do?"
"Me?"
"Yes. You're going to clean up, aren't you?"
"Not me."
"How are you going to ... to--?"
"Cause his return?"
"Yes."