"Almost," I repeated. "After twenty years of work, I am through except for a few small items—"
I looked at her pleadingly.
"It will run about twenty dollars. Do you think—?"
She didn't care much for the idea, but finally she slid off the wedding ring.
"You'll redeem this first thing, Ted? Before any of the rest of the stuff?"
I promised and took off at a dead run.
Johnson didn't have to inspect the ring; he'd seen it before, and he counted out twenty dollars. That was the only item he'd give me a decent price on. He knew I'd be back for it.
"How's the time machine coming along, Ted?" He had a little smirk, the way some people do when they hear I'm building a time machine. "Get in touch with Mars yet?"
"I have no interest in Mars," I told him. "I plan to make contact with the future—about thirty years from now. And for your information, the time machine is practically finished. The first test will be tonight."
He wasn't smirking now, because he never forgot the way I passed him in school and he had a good respect for my brain. He looked a little thoughtful—only a little, because that's all he was capable of.