"Working," Rick said. "We scientists must never rest. We must labor always to push back the frontiers of ignorance." He put a hand on his heart and bowed with proper dramatic modesty. "I am working on an invention that will startle the civilized world."
"We will now bow our heads in reverent silence while the master tells all," Scotty intoned.
"I know," Jerry guessed. "You're working on a radar-controlled lawn mower so you can cut the grass while you sit on the porch."
"That's too trivial for a junior genius like Rick," Scotty objected. "He's probably working on a self-energizing hot dog that lathers itself with mustard, climbs into a bun, and then holds a napkin under your chin while you eat it."
"Not a bad idea," Rick said soberly. "But that isn't it."
"Of course not," Hartson Brant put in. "You see, I happen to know what it is, due to a little invention of my own—an electronic mind reader."
Scotty gulped. "You didn't tell Mom what happened to those two pieces of butterscotch pie, did you? I wanted her to blame it on Rick."
Rick asked unbelievingly, "An electronic mind reader? All right, Dad, what am I working on?"
"A device to penetrate the darkness."
Rick stared. His father had scored a hit. He demanded, "How did you know?"