justifieddislike to himself.
But presently he grumbled, "Smart, huh? Two can play at that! I'm theone that's got to do things if we are both goin' to get rich."
He put his gadget carefully away and combed his hair and ate some coldfood around the house and drove over to see Rosie. It was a night and anerrand which ordinarily would have seemed purely romantic. There werefireflies floating about, and the Moon shone down splendidly, and aperfumed breeze carried mosquitoes from one place to another. It was thesort of night on which, ordinarily, Sam would have thought only ofRosie, and Rosie would have optimistic ideas about how housekeepingcould, after all, be done on what Sam made a week.
They got settled down in the hammock on Rosie's front porch, and Samsaid expansively, "Rosie, I've made up my mind to get rich. You ought tohave everything your little heart desires. Suppose you tell me what youwant so I'll know how rich I've got to get."
* * * * *
Rosie drew back. She looked sharply at Sam. "Do you feel all right?"
He beamed at her. He'd never been married and he didn't know how crazyit sounded to Rosie to be queried on how much money would satisfy her.There simply isn't any answer to the question.
"Listen," said Sam tenderly. "Nobody knows it, but tonight Joe Hunt andthe Widow Backus are eloping to North Carolina to get married. We'llfind out about it tomorrow. And day after tomorrow, on the Fourth ofJuly, Dunnsville is going to win the baseball game with Bradensburg,seven to five, all tied till the ninth inning, and then George Peeby isgoing to hit a homer with Fred Holmes on second base."
Rosie stared at him. Sam explained complacently. The Sam Yoder in themiddle of the week after next had told him what to expect in thoseparticular cases. He would tell him other things to expect. So Sam wasgoing to get rich.
Rosie said, "Sam! Somebody was playing a joke on you!"
"Yeah?" Sam answered comfortably. "Who else but me knows what you saidto me that time you thought I was mad at you and you were crying outback of the well-house?"
"Sam!"
"And nobody else knows about that time we were picnicking and a bug gotdown the back of your dress and you thought it was a hornet."
"Sam Yoder!" wailed Rosie. "You never told anybody about that!"
"Nope," said Sam truthfully. "I never did. But the me in the week afternext knew. He told me. So he had to be me talking to me. Couldn't'vebeen anybody else."
Rosie gasped. Sam explained all over again. In detail. When he hadfinished, Rosie seemed dazed.
Then she said desperately, "Sam! Either you've t-told somebody elseeverything we ever said or did together, or else--there's somebody whoknows every word we ever said to each other! That's awful! Do you reallyand truly mean to tell me--"
"Sure I mean to tell you," said Sam happily. "The me in the week afternext called me up and talked about things nobody knows but you and me.Can't be no doubt at all."
Rosie shivered. "He--he knows every word we ever said! Then he knowsevery word we're saying now!" She gulped. "Sam Yoder, you go home!"
Sam gaped at her. She got up and backed away from him.
"D-do you think," she chattered despairingly, "that I--that I'm g-goingto talk to you when s-somebody else--listens to every w-word I sayand--knows everything I do? D-do you think I'm going to _m-marry_ you?"
Then she ran away, weeping noisily, and slammed the door on Sam. Herfather came out presently, looking patient, and asked Sam to go home soRosie could finish crying and he could read his newspaper in peace.
* * * * *
On the way back to his own house, Sam meditated darkly. By the time hegot there, he was furious. The him in the week after next could havewarned him about this!
He rang and rang and rang, on the cut-off line with his gadget hooked into call July the twelfth. But there was no answer.
When morning came, he rang again, but the phone was still dead. Heloaded his tool-kit in the truck and went off to work, feeling about aslow as a man could feel.
He felt lower when he reported at the office and somebody told himexcitedly that Joe Hunt and the Widow Backus had eloped to NorthCarolina to get married. Nobody would have tried to stop them if theyhad prosaically gotten married at home, but they had eloped to make itmore romantic.
It wasn't romantic to Sam. It was devastating proof that there wasanother him ten days off, knowing everything he knew and more besides,and very likely laughing his head off at the fix Sam was in. Because,obviously, Rosie would be still more convinced when she heard this news.She'd know Sam wasn't crazy or the victim of a practical joke. He hadtold the truth.
It wasn't the first time a man got in trouble with a woman by tellingher the truth, but it was new to Sam and it hurt.
He went over to Bradensburg that day to repair some broken lines, andaround noon, he went into a store to get something to eat. There weresome local sportsmen in the store, bragging to each other about what theBradensburg baseball team would do to the Dunnsville nine.
Sam said peevishly, "Huh! Dunnsville will win that game by two runs!"
"Have you got any money that agrees with you?" a local sportsmandemanded pugnaciously. "If you have, put it up and let somebody coverit!"
Sam wanted to draw back, but he had roused the civic pride ofBradensburg. He tried to temporize and he was jeered at. In the end,philosophically, he dragged out all the money he had with him and betit--eleven dollars. It was covered instantly, amid raucous laughter. Andon the way back to Batesville, he reflected unhappily that he was goingto make eleven dollars out of knowing what was going to happen in theninth inning of that ball game, but probably at the cost of losingRosie.
* * * * *
He tried to call his other self that night again. There was no moreanswer than before. He unhooked the gadget and restored normal serviceto himself. He rang Rosie's house. She answered the phone.
"Rosie," Sam asked yearningly, "are you still mad at me?"
"I never was mad at you," said Rose, gulping. "I'm mad at whoever wastalking to you on the phone and knows all our private secrets. And I'mmad at you if you told him."
"But I didn't have to tell him! He's me! All he has to do is justremember! I tried to call him last night and again this morning," headded bitterly, "and he don't answer. Maybe he's gone off somewheres.I'm thinking it might be a--a kind of illusion, maybe."
"You told me there'd be an elopement last night," retorted Rosie, hervoice wobbling, "and there was. Joe Hunt and the Widow Backus. Just likeyou said!"
"It--it could've been a coincidence," suggested Sam, not too hopefully.
"I'm--w-waiting to see if Dunnsville beats Bradensburg seven to fivetomorrow, tied to the ninth, with George Peeby hitting a homer then withFred Holmes on second base. If--if that happens, I'll--I'll die!"
"Why?" asked Sam.
"Because it'll mean that I can't m-marry you ever, because somebodyelse'd be looking over your shoulder--and we wouldn't ever be byourselves all our lives--night or day!"
She hung up, weeping, and Sam swore slowly and steadily and with venomwhile he worked to hook up his device again--which did not make aprivate conversation on a party line, but allowed a man to talk tohimself ten days away from where he was. And then Sam rang, and rang,and rang. But he got no answer.
The following day, in the big fourth of July game, Dunnsville beatBradensburg seven to five. It was tied to the ninth. Then George Peebyhit a homer, with Fred Holmes on second base. Sam collected hiswinnings, but grimly, without joy.
He stayed home that night, worrying, and every so often trying to callhimself up on the device he had invented and been told--by himself--tomodify. It was a nice gadget, but Sam did not enjoy it. It was a nicenight, too. There was moonlight. But Sam did not enjoy that, either.
Moonlight wouldn't do Sam any good so long as there was another him inthe middle of the week after next, refusing to talk to him so he couldget out of the fix he was in.
*
* * * *
Next morning, though, the phone woke him. He swore at it out of habituntil he got out of bed, and then he realized that his gadget was hookedin and Central was cut off. He made it in one jump to the instrument.
"Hello!"
"Don't fret," said his own voice patronizingly. "Rosie's going to makeup with you."
"How in blazes d'you know what she's going to do?" raged Sam. "She won'tmarry me with you hanging around! I've been trying to figure out a wayto get rid of you--"
"Quiet!" commanded the voice on the telephone irritably.
Sam, This is You Page 2