"And what historical society could have advanced the twenty thousand dollars we needed to complete the machine?"
"I suppose you're right, my boy," MacCulloch sighed as he helped push the Reintegrator onto the auditorium floor.
By the time Clark Decker reached the platform to explain the demonstration, the fight for the microphone had turned into a three-way struggle. A lady who represented the Finance Committee was trying to win it away from both the Past President and the new President.
Taking them by surprise, Decker managed to gain control long enough to explain what was about to happen.
"You mean," demanded Mrs. Johns-Hayes, "that this is some sort of time machine and you're going to transport great-great-great-great-grandfather from the past into the present?"
"No, Mrs. Hayes. This isn't a time machine in the comic book use of the term. It is just what Professor MacCulloch has called it, an historical Reintegrator. The theory upon which it is based, the MacCulloch Reaction, says that every person who ever existed, and every event which ever took place caused electrical disturbances in the space-time continuum of the universe by displacing an equal and identical group of electrons. The task of the Reintegrator is to reassemble those electrons. That is why Professor MacCulloch is now placing your ancestor's sword in the machine. We will use that as a base point from which our recreation will begin."
The machine was humming and small lights were beginning to play about its tubes and dials. "If our calculations are accurate, and we believe that they are," Decker said, "within a very few minutes, Colonel Johns should be standing before us as he was on a day approximately a week before his heroic action in the battle at Temple Farm."
Mrs. Johns-Hayes, although still gripping her notes, was beginning to get a little flustered. "Oh my, that would be before he married great-great-great-great-grandmother Sayles. They were married only two days before the battle, you know. It was so romantic ... a wartime romance and all."
"Just imagine," Mrs. Tolman remarked, "at that time your whole family was just a gleam in the Colonel's eye!"
Professor MacCulloch made one or two last passes at the machine and then stood back to watch, a look of pure scientific ecstasy on his face. A mistiness began to gather on the platform where the Colonel's sword lay and through it from time to time shot sparks of electricity. Suddenly a gasp went up from the assembled Daughters as a man's head and shoulders appeared and expanded downward, a long way downward, to a large pair of feet. There was one last hum from the machine and then a tall young man in faded blue regimentals and very much in need of a shave was standing blinking in the blazing lights of the auditorium.