The Age Altertron
should tell you: I don’t have the combination to
the office safe. I don’t even have a key to the office. I’m just here to chase
away all the mice who come out at night to nibble on Mr. Toland’s fruits and
vegetables.”
“We don’t want money , Gramps,” said the tall man. “Do you think we would
have brought these duffel bags if we had wanted money ?”
Mr. Roessler shrugged. “I just figured you were being optimistic.”
“Why don’t you just be quiet, you stupid old man?”
“I do look old, don’t I? It’s the strangest thing. I feel old
too, but I’m only thirty-three. So what have you come for? Why are you
pointing those guns at me?”
“Direct us to the cereal aisle, Gramps. My partner and I will be taking all
the oatmeal, Cream-of-Wheat and other soft cereals you have.”
“But I don’t understand,” said the night watchman. “There are fresh T-bone steaks
and rib-eyes in the meat section. If I were robbing a supermarket that’s what I’d take.”
“And that would make you stupid-times-ten, old man. Now show us to the cereal
aisle, and when we’re done there, take us to where you keep the Jell-O and soft
custard. And you’d better be quick about it, if you know what’s good for you.”
Mr. Roessler did as he was told, and stood by as the two masked men filled their
duffel bags with all manner of soft food, and then disappeared into the night.

    “Professor? Can you wake up, Professor?” asked Becky. “Tap him again,” said
Wayne. “Tap him harder.”
“Well, I’m not going to hit him, Wayne. He’s in a deep sleep.
    We’ll just have to wait for him to wake up.”
“We can always wait, of course,” said Rodney, “but then again, Wayne and I are
his apprentices. This is what he called us last night: his trusted and worthy
apprentices in the field of cataclysmic science. And as such—”
“That isn’t what he called us,” interrupted Wayne. “He called us his worthy
and trusted apprentices. You got it backwards.” “My point is…”
“You don’t have to tell me your point, Rodney,” said Becky. “I’ll shake him
a little harder.”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Craft,” said a groggy Professor Johnson, opening
his eyes into thin slits. “I am awake now and more than willing to bring you
all up to speed. But first, Rodney, tell me who these other people are, crowded
around my bed. And if you will all take a step back from this bed, I should
be able to
breathe a little better.”
Everyone took a step back to give the Professor more breathing room.
“Well, it’s Wayne and me, and Becky, of course. And that large man over there
is Grover. And that smaller man over there is Petey Ragsdale.”
“Oh, Petey! It’s nice to see that you have come down from the clouds. How were
you transported here? You must make detailed notes that I can put into my log.
Write down everything you can remember about the experience.”
Petey nodded.
“Well, hello to the rest of you children. Of course, you’re no longer children
any more, thanks to me. Someone help me sit up in bed. I haven’t much strength.”
Grover and Wayne helped the Professor prop himself up in his bed. “Thank you,
boys. I could sleep another twenty years. Just like Rip Van Winkle. Of course,
the result would be the same as what has just happened, wouldn’t it?”
“Give or take about thirty years,” said Rodney.
“Yes, I see what you mean. You’re all looking a bit long in the tooth. Well,
blame me for it. I did it. I was right there to see the end-product of
my stupidity. My punishment started immediately, for I could hardly get myself
up all those stairs. You see, I have now only a small fraction of the energy
that I used to have. And I must
have a little rest for all the days of work that lie ahead. By my calculation
I am now in possession of the body of a one-hundredand-seventeen-year-old man.”
“Wowee!” said Petey.
“And what would

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