The Derring-Do Club and the Year of the Chrononauts Read Online Free PDF

don’t progress through the Patent system on account of a lack of continuing application on behalf of the applicant. You see?”
    Sadly Earnestine shook her head.
    “To put it another way, the applicant doesn’t complete their application, so the application comes here and…”
    He waved to the stacks of paperwork.
    “…it can become jolly useful in certain quarters to certain parties like Major Dan and his other Gentleman Adventurers for.. that is to say, for… erm…”
    “For mountaineering?”
    “Exactly. And so forth.”
    “What I don’t understand, Mister Boothroyd, is why the applicant doesn’t complete their application.”
    “It’s usually because they blow themselves up.”
    “I see.”
    “And the War Office is jolly interested in new ways of blowing things up, hence this office. And Major Dan for his little… expeditions. So we sort through it all and select those items that might be of interest.”
    Earnestine let Boothroyd see that she was looking around the office, before she replied: “Sort?”
    “Ah, excellent, precisely our little problem,” said Boothroyd beaming. “Dan said you were quick off the mark.”
    “There doesn’t seem to be a system.”
    “Oh, well, I’m afraid, my dear, that’s not the issue.”
    “It isn’t?”
    “No.”
    “What is the issue?”
    “We have far too many systems.”
    Boothroyd stood and held his arm up to encompass the North wall: “This is A to L.”
    Earnestine shifted so that she could see as far as ‘L’.
    “Little,” said Boothroyd, “Littleton, Littleworth.”
    “And beyond Littleworth?”
    Boothroyd moved around clockwise to the next wall.
    “And this is ‘Alchemy’ to ‘Chemistry’ and anything in the metric system or Sanskrit.”
    “I see.”
    Boothroyd turned south: “Here’s everything to do with metals, engineering, steam engines, uses screws, except for brass, of course, which is in the second kitchen cupboard.”
    Boothroyd stopped, uncertainly, as if he were dizzy from the three–quarter turn.
    “Mister Boothroyd?”
    “Where was I?”
    “Brass.”
    “The centre of the room is, of course, ‘miscellaneous’, ‘unsorted’, ‘sundry’, and anything in code or on yellow paper.”
    The old man’s face suddenly lit up and he threw his arms wide as if welcoming an old friend or favourite nephew.
    “Ah, here’s our pride and joy, designed by my predecessor, the Bunton Lodgement Cabinet, Mark II – see, see.”
    Earnestine obliged, putting down her cup and saucer and stepping up in response to his beckoning. It was a strange contraption, part teak writing desk and part steam engine.
    “These drawers go back and then round, twenty four in total – Bunton had no regard for ‘C’ and ‘X’, he thought them ostentatious – on both sides, see… marvellous, utterly marvellous.”
    “May I see it work?” Earnestine asked.
    “Of course, of course… as soon as we find the key.”
    They both looked round, somehow already knowing each other’s thoughts on the matter.
    “Finally, there’s this!” Boothroyd stood with his finger on a novel in the only clean set of shelves.
    “I noticed there were no papers on these shelves.”
    “Of course not, my dear, they’d fall off.”
    And with that, Boothroyd pulled the leather bound volume sharply. There was a click and the whole section opened inwards to reveal a deep recess.
    “My!”
    “Yes, my dear, the treasure house.”
    Mrs Arthur Merryweather
    Georgina had waited until Earnestine had left the house, carefully checking Arthur’s pocket watch until exactly five minutes had passed, and then, reasonably confident that her sister wasn’t going to return, she’d hefted her trunk out from under her bed and packed. She’d felt rushed, but by the time she’d manhandled the heavy item downstairs, there was still plenty of time; although each crash of weight on the step had increased her apprehension that Charlotte, Cook or one of the maids, would appear. She