To Dream Again Read Online Free PDF Page A

stand beside him.
    Michael picked up a piece of railroad track and whistled. "Sectional track?" he asked. "And a figure-eight design? You've made one that works?"
    Nathaniel caught the rising excitement in Michael's voice, and he nodded. "Yes. It's taken me three years, but damn it all, it works!"
    Michael bent down and studied the track at eye level. "How smooth does she run?"
    "Like silk, Michael. Pure silk. But that's not all."
    Nathaniel bent down and rummaged in the huge crate beside him, pulling out brightly painted tin miniatures, setting them on the table as he identified them. "Train stations, street lamps, bridges, crossings, town buildings. Michael, I'm talking about complete railway systems!"
    Michael picked up one of the prototype train stations to examine it more closely, listening as Nathaniel went on,
    "Sectional track makes it possible, and the possibilities are endless."
    Michael nodded and looked up, his dark eyes sparkling with excitement. "You market the trains as sets, of course."
    "Yes, and sell all the additional accessories by the piece. Can you imagine the profit potential?"
    "Tremendous." Michael set down the miniature train station and circled the table to the opposite side. "Let's see her run."
    Nathaniel placed the electric locomotive on the track, but before he could attach the dry-cell batteries, Mr. Boggs came up to stand beside him.
    "The 'ole to the attic's all done," he told Nathaniel, pulling off his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "We put in that ladder you wanted, too."
    "Excellent." Nathaniel reached for the wires hooked to the battery and attached them to the track. The motor hummed, but the train didn't move.
    Michael grinned at him across the table. "Some invention."
    Nathaniel was unperturbed by the teasing. "Do you want me to remind you of all the brilliant ideas you've had that didn't work?"
    "Please don't."
    The workman interrupted again. "We've swept up the plaster, sir."
    "Thank you, Mr. Boggs," Nathaniel murmured. He leaned over the table and studied the locomotive. "It has to be the motor," he said. "Something's probably been jarred in transit."
    "Guv'nor?" Boggs waited a few moments, but Nathaniel continued to stare at his unmoving train, and the workman gave a slight cough. "Well, if that's all, sir, me an' me boy will be goin' now. If you could pay us, sir?"
    Nathaniel paid no attention until Michael leaned over the table and snapped his fingers in front of his face.
    "Nathaniel, I believe your workmen would like to be paid."
    "Oh." Nathaniel straightened and glanced at Boggs, realizing that the man was still standing beside him. Boggs glanced down at the table, eyeing the train with some skepticism before giving Nathaniel an apologetic smile.
    "It's growing late, sir. If you'll just pay us, we'll be on our way."
    "Of course." Nathaniel unhooked the batteries from the track. "See if you can figure it out," he told Michael. "I'll be right back."
    The other man nodded. "I'll check your motor."
    Nathaniel pulled off his spectacles and set them on the table, then crossed the room and looked up at the square hole in his ceiling. He gripped the ladder bolted to the wall and climbed into the attic. By the light of the hurricane lamp the workman had left burning, he took a look around.
    Once the rest of his furniture was shipped from San Francisco, he'd have to find another place to store it because even with the attic, he still wouldn't have enough room. But for storing some of the equipment he'd brought with him, this would do nicely. "Perfect!" he shouted down to Boggs. "Now I have plenty of room."
    He descended the ladder, lamp in hand, and made his way to his desk. Setting down the lamp, he began to rummage through the papers, books, and other odd items strewn over his desk. "Just what I wanted, Mr. Boggs. You've done a splendid job. You, too, Alfred," he added to Boggs's fourteen-year-old son, who stood silently nearby.
    Boggs twisted the cap in his hands and bobbed his