“No offence,” Leek said drowsily, “just being friendly.” He shook his head slowly. “How you A’s get around! I suppose you’ve come back here to do a history book?”
Collins just smiled enigmatically.
“I’ll be on my way,” Leek said, yawning copiously. “On the go, night and day. I’d be better off in a quarry.”
And he vanished in the middle of a yawn.
Rain was still beating against the ceiling. Across the airshaft, the snoring continued, undisturbed. Collins was alone again, with the machine.
And with a thousand dollars in small bills scattered around the floor.
He patted the Utilizer affectionately. Those A-ratings had it pretty good. Want something? Just ask for it and press a button. Undoubtedly, the real owner missed it.
Leek had said that the man might try to get in some other way. What way?
What did it matter? Collins gathered up the bills, whistling softly. As long as he had the wishing machine, he could take care of himself.
The next few days marked a great change in Collins’s fortunes. With the aid of the Powha Minnile Movers he took the Utilizer to upstate New York. There, he bought a medium-sized mountain in a neglected corner of the Adirondacks. Once the papers were in his hands, he walked to the centre of his property, several miles from the highway. The two movers, sweating profusely, lugged the Utilizer behind him, cursing monotonously as they broke through the dense underbrush.