Bill hurriedly released Molly, holding the tongue-lolling dog against his chest. Is licked his nose affectionately. Bill grinned.
"What a fox," he exulted. "'A good lean head and a quick dark eye,' as the poem goes."
"Well," Molly said, "I only hope it doesn't get cold where we're going. I was thinking of making some special little jackets for Is and Was, but—"
"Just a minute," said Bill, giving her a quick, severe little kiss. "Who said we weren't going to take the machine? But keep it out of my sight!"
Their possessions being meager, their bank account non-existent, the Bennetts were able to load everything into a jallopy rocket-car that took the curves at a meager seventy per hour.
When they arrived at the sagging Connecticut farm where Unk had puttered around with mostly useless inventions the last few years of his life, they immediately saw the reclining hulk of the spaceship in the yard. It looked like a brown cigar with the end bitten raggedly off.
"Neat, huh?" said Bill. "The time-machine is hooked in with the spaceship controls. We can move in space as well as time."