It took some more detective work for the two partners in uncrime to figure out where the time machine had come from. But not much, because the sales receipt was right there among the papers on the table, and it had all the information they needed.
“I should have known,” Melvin said. He turned to his assistant. “Looks like Big Al is now selling time machines.”
Candace made a face like she had bitten into a Brussels sprout and worm sandwich. “It was much easier when he was just selling lairs. What’ll we do, wait until midnight and break in?”
“There’s no time for that. Goofball, Max, and Calamity are already headed for the academy. We have to go to Big Al’s now.”
“He knows what we look like,” Candace said. “And you know he never sells things to good guys.”
Melvin nodded. It was true. Al’s usual customers were bad guys. He might not want to give the superheroes any information at all, let alone sell them a time machine. If word got out that he was helping crime fighters, his business would go down the drain—followed by Al himself.
“Let’s go,” Melvin said. They ran outside. “Up, up, and away!”
Crash!
He tried again.
Splat!
Some things never change.
Thud!
Kabonk!
On the fifth try Melvin was up and flying. He joined Candace, who was waiting for him above the trees and filing her nails. She always brought something to keep herself busy while Melvin tried to launch himself.
Candace put her file away and turned to Melvin. “What’s the plan?”
“We’d better disguise ourselves,” he said. “What have you got in your closet?”
“You’d make an excellent pirate,” Candace said.
“Holy swashbuckler!” Melvin said.
Holy swashbuckler, indeed! Melvin had never been a pirate before. He’d once dressed up as Peter Pan for Halloween, but that’s as close as he’d gotten.
Melvin and Candace flew to her house and went upstairs to her bedroom. Candace began pulling things out of her closet. “Which do you prefer, a peg leg or an eye patch?”
Melvin thought this over. He’d rather limp than not be able to see. “Peg leg,” he said.
“Peg leg, it is.”
They dressed quickly. Soon they were looking very pirate-ish.
“How are your acting skills, Candace?” Melvin asked as he looked at himself in the closet mirror. His peg leg looked fabulous.
“Acting? Heck, it’s what I used to do before I started saving the world. You should have seen me play Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Great. Then I’ll let you do the talking when we get to Al’s.”
“Aye, aye, matey. Let’s go.”
They did. But they didn’t fly. Pirates streaking across the sky might look a little suspicious. In fact, pirates with capes were a little weird.