They grew sulkier and gloomier and wearier, as it got later. They could not finish both books but had to be content with doing about twenty pages of each. They decided to leave the rest for future sessions. Then they programmed the homework Miss Arnold had given them—the first five examples in algebra and the first eight questions in the history book—and flopped into chairs to rest while Minny ran off three copies of each.
Irene and Joe took their copies.
“So long, Danny,” Joe said. “I’ve got to get home. Tell your friend, Irene, that I said good night.”
“Oh, Joe. This is silly.” Irene burst out. “Let’s make it up. I will if you will.”
But Joe was very tired and grumpy. And he was more than a little jealous that Irene had become such a good friend of Danny’s.
So he said, “There’s nothing to make up about. I still say if you’d never moved in around here, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Irene pressed her lips together. She felt, for a moment, as if she were going to cry. Then she blurted, “You keep talking about how bad girls are. Ha! You’re nothing but a sorehead. Good night, Danny.”
And she stalked out. Joe sighed. He felt that he had been a pig, but it was too late to do anything about it.
“Good night, Dan,” he said, softly.
“I’ll walk you to the front door,” Danny said.
He snapped out the lights in the lab. But he was much too worried about the disagreement between his friends to remember to lock the back door. When he had seen Joe out, he went to the kitchen for a glass of milk.
His mother was sitting at the table with a card file before her, and two or three cookbooks.
“What are you doing, Mom?” he asked.
“I’m programming tomorrow’s meals, dear,” Mrs. Dunn said, with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh. Mom—”
“Yes?”
“What do you do when your best friend has a fight with your other best friend?”
Mrs. Dunn thoughtfully chewed the eraser of her pencil. “It seems to me, darling,” she said, at last, “that if the middle of a rope is strong, it won’t break no matter how much you pull on both ends.”
Danny looked at her. “Oh,” he said. “I—I think I understand. Well, good night, Mom.”
He started up the stairs. Then he remembered that he had forgotten to lock up the laboratory. As he entered, it seemed to him that he heard an odd, scrambling noise out in the lilacs. But when he looked, there was nothing there. He turned the key in the back door, snapped off the lights, and went up to bed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Scrambled Report
Danny overslept the next morning. His mother had to call him three times, and in the end she had to come upstairs and roll him out of bed before he would get up. He came down yawning, and Mrs. Dunn, lifting one eyebrow, said, “You’ll have to be more serious on school nights, Dan. No more late game playing with your friends.”
“Game playing!” Danny exclaimed. “Oh. Yes, Mom.”
He gobbled his breakfast and went out. Irene emerged from her front door at the same time, rubbing her eyes.
“You had trouble getting up, too, I see,” she said.
“Uh-huh. I’ll bet Joe did, too.”
Irene shook her head. “I wish Joe wasn’t so stubborn.”
“Aw, he was just tired last night. All that new homework got him.”
Irene clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness!” she said. “Danny! I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“When you said ‘new homework,’ I remembered some old homework. Last week Miss Arnold asked me to do a social studies report. I’m supposed to give it in class this morning. And I never prepared it.”
“Oh, gosh. I remember it—it was on the products of Peru.”
“That’s right. We were so busy last night, I forgot all about it.”
Danny looked at his wrist watch. “Listen,” he said, “you go on to school. All that stuff is in Minny’s memory. If I program it right now, I can get it for you in three minutes.”
“But will it be in the form of a report?”
“Why not? It’s just information we want, and the machine can dig it out of the tapes and type it.
“But Dan, you’ll be late for school.”
“So what? We’ll both be late if you don’t hurry. Anyway, maybe I can just make it in time.”
Without another word, he turned and dashed back. He rushed into the house, shouted to his mother, “Forgot something!” and ran to the laboratory. He snapped the POWER ON switch and, while he was waiting for the machine to warm up, quickly jotted down exactly what he wanted and found the code number for its place in the memory banks. Turning to the microphone, he said, “Address 21690. A report on the products and industry of Peru. Prepare and type information, pages 93, 94, and 95.”
He tapped the proper key, and within a moment or two the typewriter was rattling off the report. Danny snatched it out of the machine, switched off the power, and ran.
He knew a few short cuts which he usually didn’t like to use because they meant going through the back yards of some rather grumpy people, but this morning he couldn’t stop to worry about that. He climbed a couple of fences, ducked under a line of fluttering wash, crossed a little bridge, ran uphill through a birch wood, and came out at the edge of the athletic field. He made it to the classroom just as the first bell rang, dropped the paper on Irene’s desk, and fell panting into his own seat.
The very first period was Social Studies. Miss Arnold called on Irene to make her report. Irene quickly took out the paper. She had been too busy and flustered even to glance at it. She wasn’t worried. After all, Minny never made a mistake. The machine was always right. She had no reason to expect that there would be anything wrong with this report. She got up, glanced down at the paper, and began to read:
“The products of Peru. Within the erpivances of herpitaf m-m-m-many erminals p-p-p-ik! Brrr!”
“What?” said Miss Arnold.
Irene automatically kept on reading, while at the same time she felt a kind of dreadful astonishment at herself.
“The wool of gl-gl-gl itsnik nergle t-t-ttrips that can be oh-oh-oh brrr!”
She caught herself then, and stopped. She looked down the rest of the sheet. It was all the same kind of gibberish to the very bottom of the page.
“Irene!” Miss Arnold said. “What on earth—?”
“I’m sorry,” Irene said, thinking fast. “I’m— I’ve got a frog in my throat.”
“Sounds like a frog with hiccups,” snickered Robin Glenn, who sat in front of her.
Irene pretended to clear her throat. She could remember feeding the information about Peru into the computer. Frowning with the effort to recall the details, she brought to mind the exact pages of the textbook: pages 93, 94, and 95. She pretended to read from the report but really began to recite from memory: “The products of Peru. Within the boundaries of Peru many minerals are to be found, among them silver and copper…
She went on, digging into her memory until she had covered all she could think of. Then, red-faced, she drew a deep breath and said, “I guess that’s all.”
“Very good, Irene,” said Miss Arnold. “I was a little startled at first, but you’ve done well. Will you leave your report with me, please.”
“Uh—Miss Arnold, it’s kind of scribbled,” Irene gulped. “And I’d—I’d like to copy it so that I can keep it for my own reference. Can I turn it in tomorrow?”
“All right. Now we come to the geography of Peru. Victoria Williams, please report.”
Irene sat down, sighing with relief. Then she glanced over her shoulder. Danny was grinning at her.
She tightened her lips, and gave him a look as sharp and cold as an icicle. Then she turned back to her desk. She was hurt and angry. S
he knew Danny was full of fun, but she had never expected him to play a trick like this on her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Professor Returns
After school, Irene began walking home by herself. Danny came running after her.
“Hey!” he called. “What’s the matter?”
She whirled on him. “How can you talk to me, Danny Dunn?” she snapped. “If that’s your idea of a joke—”
“Huh?” His mouth dropped open. “A joke? What do you mean?”
“As if you didn’t know.”
She whipped out the paper and handed it to him. Danny looked at it, and slowly his expression changed; his face grew pale.
“I didn’t do this,” he whispered.
Irene stared at him. “You mean, it was the machine?”
“Yes. Something’s wrong.”
“But what could be wrong?”
“I don’t know. But—oh, gosh!—we’d better find out right away.”
He started to run, and Irene had a little trouble keeping up with him. But she panted bravely along behind him, and at last, winded and wet, they arrived at Danny’s front door.
Dan was just reaching for the knob when the door was pulled open.
“Hullo, my boy,” cried a well-known, jolly voice.
“Professor Bullfinch!” Danny said.
“Glad to see you, Dan.” The Professor’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses. He looked well, but tired. “And Irene. How are you?”
“Fine,” said Irene, with no enthusiasm.
“You’re back sooner than I thought,” Danny said, trying to be calm.
“Well, I must say, that’s a fine greeting.”
“I’m sorry. Of course I’m glad to see you.” Danny grinned feebly and shook hands. “Have you—looked at Minny yet?”
The Professor laughed. “Just got in, not ten minutes ago. I’ll get to Minny soon enough. I know you’ll be just as excited as I am. Look here, here’s someone you’ll be glad to see.”
Danny and Irene came into the living room where two men were sitting. One of them was the Professor’s old friend, Dr. A. J. Grimes, a scientist, who was tall and thin and sour-faced. The other was a stranger, a fat man with enormously heavy eyebrows and at least three chins.
Danny greeted Dr. Grimes and introduced Irene to him. Then the Professor led him to the stranger, and said, “This is Dr. Ambrose Quibberly, of the Federal Research Council.”
“How do you do?” said Danny.
“Dr. Quibberly has come down to inspect Miniac,” the Professor went on. “The government has an immediate need for computers of this type, provided Minny turns out to be all we say she is.” And he chuckled, and rubbed his hands together.
“Yes, and the sooner we find out, the better,” said Dr. Quibberly. “I’m a busy man, you know.”
Just then, Mrs. Dunn entered with a large silver tray on which was the Professor’s best tea service. She set it down, and began pouring tea.
“Hello, Danny dear,” she said. “And Irene! How nice to see you. Run along to the kitchen, Dan, and bring in the plate of cakes I left on the counter.”
Danny, with a despairing look at Irene, did as his mother asked.
Mrs. Dunn said, “Now, gentlemen, I know you’re all tired from your trip, and I have a pretty good notion of all the work you’re going to have to do in the laboratory. So I suggest that instead of rushing into things, you relax and rest. I’ll have dinner ready early, and after dinner you can get to work.”
“A splendid idea, my dear Mrs. Dunn,” the Professor beamed. “And very sensible. Don’t you think so, Dr. Quibberly?”
“No,” said Dr. Quibberly. “I think—”
Mrs. Dunn put a teacup in his hand. “Lemon or cream?” she asked gently.
“Thank you, neither. I think—”
Danny came back with the plate of cakes and began passing them round. He said nervously to the Professor, “Are you going right in to show them Minny?”
“No, I believe we’ll do as your mother has just suggested, and relax. I, for one, am exhausted from the trip down.”
“Oh, good,” Danny said, and then quickly added, “I mean, I think that’s a good idea.”
“There’s no point in rushing,” Dr. Grimes said, gruffly. “The computer probably won’t work anyway. Your theories, my dear Bullfinch, are always far beyond any possible practice.”
“Not in this case,” Professor Bullfinch replied.
“Look here,” Dr. Quibberly began, “I haven’t got all the time in the world—”
“Certainly not, sir,” said Mrs. Dunn soothingly. “Who has? Do have one of these cakes.”
“Thank you. Now, I think—”
“Relax, Quibberly,” said Dr. Grimes. “You’ll pop a blood vessel.”
“You won’t regret waiting,” said the Professor. “Mrs. Dunn’s dinners are famous. And it’s quite true that we’ll work better when we’re a little more rested.”
He stood up. “Grimes,” he said, “it’s months since we played a duet. What about a little music?”
“An excellent idea.” Dr. Grimes went out into the hall and opened his valise. He took out a small, black case. Meantime, the Professor had taken an enormous bull fiddle from a closet in the living room.
“Do you think this is the time for duets?” Dr. Quibberly fumed. “Really, Professor Bullfinch, I do believe—”
“I agree with you,” cried the Professor, heartily. “There’s no time like the present, for music. Tune up, Grimes.”
Dr. Grimes had taken out a piccolo and was fitting it together. Danny looked at Irene and motioned with his head towards the door. Without a word, the two young people slipped quietly out of the room.
“Come on,” Danny said, in an urgent whisper, when they were in the hall. “Let’s go to the lab.”
“Do you think it’s safe?”
“Sure. They’re good for at least half an hour of music. Then they’ll start arguing as they always do and it will break up.”
He led the way to the laboratory. Irene remained at the door to warn him if anyone came. Danny went at once to the computer, snapped the POWER ON switch, and fidgeted impatiently until the machine warmed up. Then he began testing all its different parts.
Half an hour later, he shook his head wearily. “I don’t know,” he said. “If I only had more time, maybe I could—”
“Shh!” Irene hissed. “They’re coming.”
Danny sprang away from the console. A moment later, the Professor entered, followed by the other two men.
“Right in here, gentlemen,” the Professor was saying. “We can at least take a look at Miniac before dinner.”
He blinked at Danny. “Why, Dan,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I—I—I was just warming Minny up, Professor,” the boy stammered. “I knew you wouldn’t want to waste time later.”
“That’s very good of you.”
“Do you mean to say,” demanded Dr. Quibberly, “that you allow a little child to meddle with your computer? Why, I never heard of such a thing.”
“Danny’s not a little child,” the Professor said, quietly. “He’s my assistant. He has lived in this house almost all his life, and he’s learned a great deal more than most adults know about science. Of course I trust him.”
Danny gulped miserably, but couldn’t say anything.
The Professor moved to the console. His foot struck something on the floor. He bent and picked it up; it was a scout knife.
“Is this yours, Dan?” he asked.
“I guess so,” Danny said, taking the knife.
“Hm. It’s careless to leave tools lying about,” said the Professor. “Put it away, my boy.”
Danny dropped it into his back pocket.
Dr. Quibberly had stepped forward to examin
e the console. “Very interesting,” he said. “As long as we’re here, Bullfinch, perhaps we could begin with a few simple tests.”
But just at that instant, Mrs. Dunn looked in round the door. “Everything’s hot!” she called. “Come to the table.”
Danny blew out a long breath of relief. His fate had been postponed—at least till after dinner.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Dismal Dinner for Danny
They all sat down around the long, oak dining table. Mrs. Dunn had invited Irene to stay for dinner, and when the girl had run across and secured permission from her parents, she returned and sat next to Danny. The two tried to eat, although neither of them had much of an appetite.
But, fortunately, the adults were so busy with their own eating and talking that they hardly noticed the young people.
Dr. Grimes, his vinegary face wrinkled in a smile, said, “Ah, Mrs. Dunn, this roast beef is delicious.”
“Thank you. Have some more dumplings, Dr. Grimes. I remembered how much you liked them.”
“I must make a point of coming down to visit more often.”
“Good!” cried the Professor. “After a month or two of Mrs. Dunn’s cooking and my music, you’ll be a different man.”
“Really? Who will he be?” asked Dr. Quibberly, absent-mindedly.
“Oh, he’ll still be Dr. Grimes—but a fat and jolly-looking Dr. Grimes,” laughed the Professor.
Dr. Quibberly raised his head and peered at Dr. Grimes. “I find it impossible to imagine such a thing,” he said.
“Nothing is impossible to imagine,” said the Professor. “To a scientist, all things are possible. And the next step is to make them happen.”
“Like your computer, eh, Bullfinch?” Dr. Grimes said. “That is, if it really works.”
“I think I may confidently say that you will be surprised,” said the Professor.
Danny groaned.
“What did you say, Dan?” his mother asked.
“Er—I said—uh—please pass the data.”
“The what?”
“I mean, the dumplings.”
Danny Dunn and the Homework Machine Page 5
