Ole Doc Methuselah by L. Ron Hubbard Page B

calmly
down upon the crowd.
    â€œMy
friends,” he said, “I am Alyn Elston.”
    They
gaped at him. A few came nearer and stared. The man appeared tired but the very
image of the pictures on all the literature.
    â€œI
am here, my friends, to tell you that tomorrow morning you shall have all your
money returned to you or shall be given work on certain projects I envision
here—and will finance—as you yourselves may elect. I have the money with me. I
need the records and I am sure morning will do wonderfully well. However, if
any of you doubt and can show me your receipts I shall begin now . . .”
    They
knew him then. They knew him and their relief was so great after all their
suspicions and worries that the cheers they sent forth reached twice as far as
those they had given Ole Doc. The rolling thunderbolts of sound made the ship
and town shiver. Men began to join hands and dance in crazy circles. Hats went
skyward. They cheered and cheered until there was nothing to their voices but
harsh croaks. And this called for wetness and so they flooded into the town.
They carried Elston on their shoulders and hundreds fought with one another to
clasp his hand and promise him devotion forever.
    In
a very short while they would let him speak again.
    And
he would speak and they would speak and the available supply of liquor would
drop very low indeed in Junction City.
    Â 
    Back
aboard the Morgue, had they not been so loud, they would have heard a
strange series of thumps and rattles which betokened the disposal in the
garbage disintegrator of certain superfluous mass which had been, at the last,
in the doctor’s road.
    And
now quietly, palely, the real and only hero of the affair, utterly forgotten,
worked feebly on himself, trying to take away the burn scars and the weariness.
He gave it up. His heart was too ill with worry. He stumbled tiredly toward his
cabin where he hoped to get new clothes. Near the spaceport he stopped, struck
numb.
    Hippocrates
was standing there and in the little being’s four arms lay cradled a burden
which was very precious to Ole Doc. Alicia Elston’s bare throat stretched out
whitely, her lips were partly opened, her bright hair fell in a long, dripping
waterfall. About Hippocrates’ feet spread drops of water.
    Ole
Doc’s alarm received a welcome check.
    â€œShe
is well,” said Hippocrates. “When I walked along the riverbank I found three
men taking her from a chest. I killed two but the third threw her in the river.
I killed the third and threw them in but walked for many minutes on the river
bottom before I found her. I ran with her to the nearest spaceship and there we
gave her the pulmotor and oxygen. I made her lie warmly in blankets until she
slept and then I brought her here. What was this crowd, master? What was all
the cheering?”
    â€œHow
did you come to find her?” cried Ole Doc, hastily guiding his slave into a
cabin where Alicia could be laid in a bed and covered again.
    â€œI
. . . I was sad. I walked along the river. I see better at night and so saw
them.” But this, obviously, was not what interested Hippocrates. He saw no
reason to dwell upon the small radar tube he had put in her pocket so that he
would not have to go over two square miles of Junction City at some future date
when Ole Doc wanted a message sent to her. There were many things he did which
he saw no reason to discuss with an important mind like Ole Doc’s.
    Disregarding
the joy and relief and thankfulness which was flooding from his master,
Hippocrates stood sturdily in the cabin door until Ole Doc started to leave.
    â€œI
don’t know how I can ever . . .”
    Hippocrates
interrupted his thanks.
    â€œYou
have Miss Elston, master. The spaceways are wide. We can go far. By tomorrow
morning it will be known that a Soldier of Light has entered social relations
and politics. By tomorrow night the System Patrols will be looking for us. By
the