Well, partly because I guess I didn’t have much real faith in the gadget, I said “Okay,” and went to get the four ham sandwiches and the coffee in a milk-bottle out of my coat-pockets. That was why I couldn’t take off the coat when I put on the coveralls⁠—for fear of spilling the coffee. Then I groaned and ran for the desk. There was a brown puddle spreading on the desk and soaking up my coat. I very nearly said “Damn!”

“I’ve got your brain wavelength,” Slim was saying. I started mopping up with my handkerchief while I hung the coat up to dry. “Now, all I have to do is⁠—come here, Doc!”

I put the sandwiches on the bench in front of him, but for once Slim didn’t even reach. He looked at me and his deep-set eyes were burning. “We are going to be the greatest private investigators in history,” he said. “In fact, we’ll make history. Doc, we’ll be the most important men in America.”

I should have been more enthusiastic, but things were going so badly⁠—“I don’t care,” I told him, “about being a great man, if I can just quit ducking the landlord. I want to walk in under his nose and not be scared of him. If you want to fill my cup to overflowing, just let me use that thing long enough to get something on him.”

Slim was already turning dials. Tubes were lighting up. The set was humming. Pretty soon he pointed to a screen, and I damn near lost my breath. There on a screen about twelve by eighteen inches, big enough so there wasn’t any mistake, I saw myself on the night of July Fourth, just as I bought one ticket for the roller coaster.

I guess my eyes stuck out a foot, for Slim was looking at me with that kind of sad smile. “Roller coasters,” he said gently. “Got enough, Doc?”

I gulped. “Plenty. Cut it off, please.” In the screen I saw the blonde just behind me, and I didn’t want Slim to see her put her arms around me when the roller coaster went over the dip.