"Keep it," said Rob.
The Demon started, and gave him an odd look.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I told you to keep it," answered Rob. "I don't want it."
The Demon staggered back as if he had been struck.
"Don't want it!" he gasped.
"No; I've had enough of your infernal inventions!" cried the boy, with sudden anger.
He unclasped the traveling machine from his wrist and laid it on the table beside the Demon.
"There's the thing that's responsible for most of my troubles," said he, bitterly. "What right has one person to fly through the air while all his fellow-creatures crawl over the earth's surface? And why should I be cut off from all the rest of the world because you have given me this confounded traveling machine? I didn't ask for it, and I won't keep it a moment longer. Give it to some one you hate more than you do me!"