“Well, what do you want?” Oscar demanded. “Haven’t you messed my life up enough without ruining my sleep to boot?”
The man on the bed said, “Control your temper. We’re all in a bad spot. First, let me introduce ourselves. I am, as nearly as I can compute, your fourteen times greatgrandfather. By virtue of my seniority, and to simplify things, think of me as Oscar Doodle the First. My companion,” he said, waving negligently to the other twin, “you may consider Oscar Doodle the Second. He, incidentally, is my great-great-great-grandchild. You’ll have to take my word for these things.” He grinned wickedly. “And my word, as any of my cohorts of the fourteenth century could tell you, isn’t worth a tinker’s dam.”
Oscar stared at the speaker with unbelievingly eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” he gasped.
“I am completely serious,” Oscar Doodle the First said dryly. “We were brought to this time plane through the medium of a sorceress who used your subconscious mind to complete the transition. You had better accept that fact my much-removed grandson and stop staring at me with bug-eyes. I, for one, was delighted at the change. At the time of the good witch’s intervention I was languishing in an unpleasant jail. I find your apartment much more comfortable.”
“So you’re the one who took my apartment!” Oscar cried indignantly.
Oscar the First smiled. “Yes. Oscar the Second took your — ahem — beautiful damsel.”
Oscar the Second grunted sourly.
“I certainly got stung on the deal,” he said bitterly. He glared at Oscar. “I can’t say much for your taste in women.”
Oscar stared at his twins in bewilderment.
“What kind of a deal are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain,” Oscar the First said. “You see three of us were brought here to this time plane through the medium of your subconscious mind. We knew all about you, everything you did and thought, because we had been in contact with your mind for some time. When we arrived we were penniless, friendless in a great, strange city. Our only recourse was to move in on your life. We divided your existence, in a manner of speaking.” He spread his hands and smiled at Oscar’s obvious confusion. “It was really simple. I took your apartment, Oscar the Second here took your girl and Oscar the Third, the other member of our trio, appropriated your job. You see that gave us all a measure of comfort and security.”
“But what about me?” Oscar wailed. “I’m out in the cold. I haven’t got anything left.”
“That’s right,” Oscar the First said blandly, “I knew you’d catch on. And one other thing. We divided your bank account. It was the only fair thing to do.”
Oscar stared bitterly at his two twins from Time.
“And what do you want now? Did you discover I have some gold fillings you overlooked in your original inventory?”
“Nothing like that,” Oscar the First, who seemed to be the spokesman, said. “We’ve come to you about something which may jeopardize our pleasant little set-up. You see we made a rather unhappy choice when we put Oscar the Third in your job at the Bank.”
“Why?” asked Oscar.
“It so happens,” Oscar the First said, “that Oscar the Third was a notorious confidence man and thief in his own time level and we’re afraid that he might revert to type in the presence of all the money surrounding him in his new job.”
“Oh my God!” Oscar groaned.
“You see,” Oscar the First said quietly, “it’s no light matter. What would happen to all of us if our light-fingered relative decided to stuff his pockets with money and leave for parts unknown? The situation would become awkward. Descriptions would be broadcast, your apartment would be searched immediately, your girl would be questioned and,” Oscar the First paused eloquently, “the police drag-net would catch all of us.”
“I, for one,” Oscar the Second said moodily, “would relish a change.” He glanced disgustedly at Oscar. “That female of yours would make a man yearn for prison bars.”
“You didn’t have to give her an engagement ring, did you?” Oscar snapped.
Oscar the Second shrugged. “It wasn’t my money I was spending. And it made the deal that much more binding.”
“Come, come, now,” Oscar the First put in smoothly, “this is no time for trivial details. We’ve got to fix things so our thieving relation doesn’t get us all into trouble. Who has any suggestions?”
Oscar leaned back in his chair and smiled with sudden confidence. An idea had occurred to him that might get him out of this spot.
“I have nothing to suggest,” he said calmly. “This is your baby and you can spank it. I’ve been gyped out of my job, my apartment and my girl, so why should I want to help you anyway? Now I’m going back to sleep. Will you leave quietly or shall I call the house detective?”
His two twins stood up uneasily.
The first Oscar said, “Not a very sporting attitude, old fellow. But if you won’t help, you won’t. We can’t very well make you.”
When his twins had left Oscar stretched out on the bed again, but he was smiling contentedly. Before he went to sleep he put in a call for six in the morning. He’d show these intruders from the Past where to get off at...
Oscar was at the bank the next morning before the doors were opened. His plan was simplicity itself. He’d simply beat his twin to the job and then, when his obnoxious impersonator arrived, he’d have him thrown out.
He was so anxious to get to his desk that he failed to notice the rather peculiar look the watchman gave him when he opened the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Doodle,” he said carefully.
“Morning, John,” Oscar said and hurried past him to his office.
It was a little after eight and he was the first one at the bank. He settled himself at his desk brimful of confidence. He’d show ’em. At least he had his job back now and he was certain he’d be able to reclaim the other lost phases of his existence.
He worked for an hour, happily doing the routine work that he had done for years, and he kept one eye peeled on the door awaiting the arrival of his impersonator. While he was waiting he did a little thinking of his conversation the previous night with the men who claimed to be his ancestors. He wondered if there was any stock in their story. They said they had been brought from their own time levels through the medium of a sorceress. That would be Madame Obary. She had told him she was trying to communicate with his ancestors through his subconscious mind. Maybe her scheme had worked too well. Instead of just communicating with his ancestors it looked as if she had brought them to the Present in the flesh.
Oscar shook his head. What a mess she had made for him. But he wasn’t going to stay licked. Reclaiming his job was only the first step in the battle. He’d keep fighting until he’d driven these unwanted ancestors of his completely out of his life.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He smiled in anticipation and squared his shoulders.
“Come in!” he said sternly.
The door opened and his blonde secretary entered. She stared at him in astonishment and then a frantic expression of worry appeared on her face.
“Mr. Doodle,” she cried, “what are you doing here?”
Oscar cleared his throat severely.
“Where else would I be, Miss Brown?” he inquired dryly.
“But you can’t stay here,” Miss Brown said, looking wildly about the room. “You’ve got to hide. I’ll help you. I won’t tell anyone I’ve seen you.” She crossed to his side with quick, anxious steps and took his arm in her hands and pulled him to his feet.