"It won't do you any good to lie, Mr. Merton," said Brown. "We got a search warrant this morning and went through your apartment. We found the trunk full of money in your closet. Some of the boys are going over them now, down at the Treasury Office." Peter Merton gulped and said nothing. He couldn't; there was a lump in his throat the size of a grapefruit. "Well," Brady said, "if you won't tell us, I'm afraid we'll just have to take you in. Come along, Mr. Merton." Still speechless, Peter walked out of the office between the two men. * * * * * Peter Merton was sitting in a cell with his head in his hands when he heard the clicking of high heels down the corridor, followed by the heavy tread of a guard's feet. It was Irene. "I got a lawyer for you, Peter," she said breathlessly as she came up to the cell door. The guard leaned against the wall and inspected his fingernails. "I don't think he needs a lawyer, lady. What he needs is a goof-doctor. He's flipped his cookie." Peter managed a faint grin. "I told 'em how I got the money," he said. "They think I'm nuts." "But, Peter," she said, "_why_ would Rolath Guelph send counterfeit money?" "He didn't," Peter said. "Don't you see? He got all that money out of a museum. There's probably bills there that were printed in every century for the next thousand years. He just sent some bills that won't be printed for twenty years yet." "Well, don't you worry, I'll do something to get you out," she said. "Couldn't we take them up to the office and show them how it works?" "I don't know. Maybe. But Brady said that even if I were telling the truth they'd have to take all the money away from me." "I don't care about the money," Irene said. "All I care about is getting you out of this horrible place." Suddenly, a door opened at the far end of the corridor, and there were more footsteps. It was Brady and Brown, followed by a man Peter had never seen before. The stranger was saying: "--after all, it's only fair that my client be allowed to prove his story, no matter how fantastic it is." "He'll get a chance," Brady said sharply. The stranger turned out to be Q. Bertram Leslie, the lawyer that Irene had engaged. "All right," Brown said to the guard, "let him out. We'll take over." Then he looked at Peter. "We're going up to your office, Merton, to give you a chance to prove this screwy story you've been telling us about a time machine. I know it's going to be a waste of time, but justice is justice. Come along." * * * * * It was after six o'clock when they arrived at the offices of Crabley & Company, and the office suite was deserted. Irene let the officers in with a key, and they went back to Peter's private office. "Okay," said Brady, "there is your magic safe; do your stuff."