They tried the door, but, of course, found it locked, and were obliged to resort to the same means of entrance as Sahwah had employed. They saw the key in the other door just as Sahwah had and turned it and opened the door. The old man was sitting by the table in just the position Sahwah had described. Apparently he was neither frightened nor hurt. He looked up when he saw them in the doorway and motioned them to come in. There was nothing extraordinary in his appearance; he was simply an old man with mild blue eyes. Obeying the same impulse of adventure which had led Sahwah across the threshold, they stepped in and sat down. The room was just as Sahwah had told them. The table was littered with wheels and rods which the old man was fitting together. As they expected, he worked away without taking any notice of them.
“Did you mind the storm?” asked Nyoda.
“Storm?” said the old man. “What storm?”
“He never noticed it!” said Migwan, in an aside to Nyoda.
“What are you making?” asked Migwan, wishing to hear from his own lips the explanation he had given Sahwah.
After his customary interval he spoke. “It’s a machine that reclaims wasted moments,” he explained. “Every moment that isn’t made good use of goes down through this little trap door, and when there are enough to make an hour they join hands and climb up on the face of the clock again.”
Migwan and Nyoda exchanged glances. The ingenious imagination of the old man surpassed anything they had ever heard. They stayed awhile, amusing themselves by looking at the books and clocks in the cabinets, and then rose, intending to slip away quietly when he was absorbed in his work, as Sahwah had done. A dish of apples standing on one of the cabinets indicated that he was not without food and their minds were now at rest about his welfare. But when they moved toward the door he turned and looked at them.
“What do you think of it?” he asked.
By “it” they figured that he meant the machine he was working on. “It’s a very good one indeed,” said Nyoda, “very interesting.”
“Do you want to buy the rights?” asked the old man, taking off his hat and putting it on again.