“Where is it, Mother? That round brass thing that was in my pocket?”
“Why, I took it,” said Mrs. Rowland. “Why not? It was sticking in your pocket. I saw it when I brushed your clothes, and it was just what I wanted to mend your father’s glove over. Its round end just fitted the thumb.”
“Where is it now?” cried Eddie.
“I left it in my work basket,” said Mrs. Rowland. “If it is not there now, I don’t know where it is.”
Eddie seized the basket and carefully dumped its contents on the bed.
“What’s the excitement?” said Mr. Rowland, coming in. “Eddie lost something? No use being so noisy, Ed, no matter what you have lost.”
Eddie had been trying to get the infernal machine back without frightening the family, but now he was stung into an explanation. He talked as he felt through the socks, underwear, embroidery and uncut materials that filled his mother’s basket.
“Well, it is an infernal machine, if you want to know!” he said with a sob in his voice. “And it isn’t here!”
“Infernal machine! Infernal joke!” said Mr. Rowland, scolding. “Talk sense, Eddie!”
“That’s just what it is,” said Eddie. “Some detectives and us just found a whole case of them in a cave. They are the most powerful machines that have ever been made. Oh, where do you suppose that is?”