Trolley to Yesterday (17 page)

Johnny, Fergie, and Dr. Coote all murmured their approval. Later, while the others waited, Mr. Townsend changed into an 1890's-style outfit. When he came back, everyone gathered around the door to the professor's fuss closet. For old time's sake, Mr. Townsend wanted to take the secret passage back to the subway tunnel.

One by one the guests clumped down the rickety wooden staircase. At last everyone stood waiting outside the rear door of the trolley. Mr. Townsend's suitcases were safely inside, and the machine was humming and vibrating. The professor stepped forward and pumped Mr. Townsend's hand vigorously.

"Good-bye and good luck, my friend," he said. "And if you happen to run into my grandfather, tell him to avoid horseback riding—he died at the age of ninety-eight when a horse threw him."

After a final wave Mr. Townsend climbed up the iron steps and disappeared into the trolley. The steady hum of the trolley's engine rose to an ear-splitting whine, and the air around the trolley began to waver. Then, with a sudden
whoosh,
the machine shot forward and disappeared. For a long time everyone was silent. Finally Johnny spoke up.

"Gee, I hope everything works out okay for him," he said with a worried frown. "Did he take any money with him?"

The professor smiled. "Oh, yes—he has about a thousand dollars in old coins and banknotes. I got them at a rare coin shop in Boston. In 1896 a thousand dollars will go a long, long way. And he can always come back here." He paused and turned to Johnny and Fergie. "By the way," he said, smiling innocently, "do you think he'll run into the ghosts of you two running around Topsfield in the winter of '96?"

Johnny and Fergie were flabbergasted. Then they stared at the ground, and their faces slowly turned red. How on earth had the professor found out?

The professor laughed, and so did Dr. Coote—they had known about the boys' secret for some time, and they had just been waiting for a chance to surprise them. When the laughter died down, the professor put his arm around Johnny and smiled warmly. "My boy," he said, "there are a lot of things in this world that you don't know—and that goes for you too, Byron. For one thing, when you set the time-machine dials for a certain place and time, the iron pointers inside the dashboard make marks on the paper-covered drums that have the list of times and places. When Mr. Townsend took off the dashboard to replace that burnt-out tube, he noticed that Topsfield and the date December 5, 1896, had been marked. But he had never gone to Topsfield, and neither had I. That left the possibility that someone else had been fooling around with the Trolley. And that someone eats Clark bars. There was a wadded-up wrapper from one in the waste can next to the driver's seat. And it is a well-known fact that you, Byron, have a passion for Clark bars. So, gentlemen? Was it fun?"

Fergie grimaced. "It sort of was," he muttered. "Whyn't we go upstairs an' finish the cake, an' we'll tell you all about it."

After another quick glance at the empty trolley tracks, the two boys and the two old men started walking slowly up the dank brick tunnel that led back to the professor's basement. All of a sudden Johnny halted. There was one more loose end, something he had forgotten about till now.

"Hey!" he said. "Professor, what happened to the weird gadget with the handle? You know, the Tabergan. Do you still have it?"

The professor smiled calmly. "No, I left it on a window ledge in Leander's Tower. I imagine those ghostly knights will come and get it back, or else it will return to them automatically."

Fergie looked exasperated. "Prof!" he exclaimed. "Are you out of your jug? That widget coulda made us millions of dollars! Everybody wants something that will carry them all over the world just like that, zippity-zoo! We could've cleaned up!"

"Maybe," sighed the professor as he kicked a little stone down the tunnel. "But I felt the Tabergan belonged to the knights. Besides, I hated the way I felt whenever the thing took me anywhere. I got all shaken up and sick to my stomach."

"Isn't that odd, Roderick," Dr. Coote put in sarcastically. "That's just the way I feel when I ride with you in your car. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to try the Tabergan, because I might have preferred it to—"

With a wild yell the professor leaped at his friend and tried to put his neck and arms in a full-Nelson grip. But Dr. Coote broke free and dashed off down the tunnel, while the boys stared after them and laughed.