The Beyonders by Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck Page B
Authors: Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck
Ads: Link
door was open, and light flowed out into the yard to show Doc sitting there on an old chair. For a moment Gander Eye turned in that direction, then decided not to talk to Doc just yet. So far he had done all right without letting any neighbors into his secrets.
He went in, turned on the fight, and sat at the table. He dumped the thing out of his handkerchief.
It was oblong in shape, about the size of a ladylike bar of soap, and it was solid metal. Its color, thought Gander Eye, was like that of a brass cartridge left over the summer in the box. Or like—
He set his elbows on the edge of the table and clamped his chin in his hands to study what had been given him. Finally he rose, went to a shelf, and opened a cigar box there. Out of it he took an ancient gold watch that had once belonged to his mother's father. Bringing it back to the table, he held it close to the lump of metal. The colors, the textures, were practically the same in both.
At last he took the mystery into his hand. It still had a warmth to it, like a frying pan taken out of hot dishwater. It must have been piping hot when it was thrown at his feet, up there on the road to the Kimber settlement. He hefted it experimentally, trying to judge its weight. The thing was heavy, all right. It must weigh several pounds. Heavier than lead.
If it was what Gander Eye thought it was, it could sell for more than a thousand dollars.
So whatever had met him out yonder on that road had given him a mighty expensive gift. It must have wanted to please him, must have wanted to make friends with him.
Or possibly it had been trying to buy him. Buy Gander Eye Gentry, who had spent his life not being for sale.
He put it back down on the table and sat gazing at it.
VI
Next morning Gander Eye walked to Bo Fletcher's little barber shed. Bo sat in the single chair, looking at a catalogue of woodworking tools. "Hey," he greeted Gander Eye. "You had you a haircut last Saturday, so I reckon you're after some blockade."
"I still got some of what Duffy gave me," said Gander Eye. "I want to show you something, a kind of metal stuff. See can you figure out what it is."
"Let's go in my shop and have a look."
Bo led the way across his yard and in at the basement door. Inside he switched on bright lights. The basement was cemented in and furnished with a lathe, a workbench, racks of tools, shelves, and boxes of various things. Gander Eye fished a wad of paper from his shirt pocket, carefully unfolded it, and spread it out on the bench. Upon it lay a shining yellow scrap the size of a nail paring. Bo stooped above it and studied it critically.
"Looks like a hunk of gold, right off," he pronounced. "What is it for sure?"
"Can't rightly tell you that. I brought it over here for you to see if you could decide on it."
"Where did it come from?" asked Bo.
"It's just a something I've had down at my place. Something I come up on." Gander Eye tried his best not to sound mysterious. "How do you test it to see is it gold or not?"
Bo considered the problem gravely. "There's several ways you can do that, I reckon. The assay office is where you'd ought to take it for official tests, but let's try something."
He selected an old chisel blade from a box. Laying this flat on the workbench, he transferred the scrap to it. From his rack of tools he selected a light hammer. Very carefully he pounded the scrap flat and studied again, his gaunt face alert.
"Look yonder," he said. "It flattened right out. Gold does that."
"So does lead," reminded Gander Eye.
"Sure enough, but this has a shiny, yellowy color, like gold."
"It weighs pretty heavy, I thought," Gander Eye said. "Heavier than lead, I'd judge."
"Let's try it with some acid. I've got two kinds here, right strong stuff. I use it for etching things out."
Bo rummaged out an old china saucer, into which he carefully slid the flattened fragment. Then he sought a shelf of bottles and chose two, with glass stoppers.
"Look out the way," he
He went in, turned on the fight, and sat at the table. He dumped the thing out of his handkerchief.
It was oblong in shape, about the size of a ladylike bar of soap, and it was solid metal. Its color, thought Gander Eye, was like that of a brass cartridge left over the summer in the box. Or like—
He set his elbows on the edge of the table and clamped his chin in his hands to study what had been given him. Finally he rose, went to a shelf, and opened a cigar box there. Out of it he took an ancient gold watch that had once belonged to his mother's father. Bringing it back to the table, he held it close to the lump of metal. The colors, the textures, were practically the same in both.
At last he took the mystery into his hand. It still had a warmth to it, like a frying pan taken out of hot dishwater. It must have been piping hot when it was thrown at his feet, up there on the road to the Kimber settlement. He hefted it experimentally, trying to judge its weight. The thing was heavy, all right. It must weigh several pounds. Heavier than lead.
If it was what Gander Eye thought it was, it could sell for more than a thousand dollars.
So whatever had met him out yonder on that road had given him a mighty expensive gift. It must have wanted to please him, must have wanted to make friends with him.
Or possibly it had been trying to buy him. Buy Gander Eye Gentry, who had spent his life not being for sale.
He put it back down on the table and sat gazing at it.
VI
Next morning Gander Eye walked to Bo Fletcher's little barber shed. Bo sat in the single chair, looking at a catalogue of woodworking tools. "Hey," he greeted Gander Eye. "You had you a haircut last Saturday, so I reckon you're after some blockade."
"I still got some of what Duffy gave me," said Gander Eye. "I want to show you something, a kind of metal stuff. See can you figure out what it is."
"Let's go in my shop and have a look."
Bo led the way across his yard and in at the basement door. Inside he switched on bright lights. The basement was cemented in and furnished with a lathe, a workbench, racks of tools, shelves, and boxes of various things. Gander Eye fished a wad of paper from his shirt pocket, carefully unfolded it, and spread it out on the bench. Upon it lay a shining yellow scrap the size of a nail paring. Bo stooped above it and studied it critically.
"Looks like a hunk of gold, right off," he pronounced. "What is it for sure?"
"Can't rightly tell you that. I brought it over here for you to see if you could decide on it."
"Where did it come from?" asked Bo.
"It's just a something I've had down at my place. Something I come up on." Gander Eye tried his best not to sound mysterious. "How do you test it to see is it gold or not?"
Bo considered the problem gravely. "There's several ways you can do that, I reckon. The assay office is where you'd ought to take it for official tests, but let's try something."
He selected an old chisel blade from a box. Laying this flat on the workbench, he transferred the scrap to it. From his rack of tools he selected a light hammer. Very carefully he pounded the scrap flat and studied again, his gaunt face alert.
"Look yonder," he said. "It flattened right out. Gold does that."
"So does lead," reminded Gander Eye.
"Sure enough, but this has a shiny, yellowy color, like gold."
"It weighs pretty heavy, I thought," Gander Eye said. "Heavier than lead, I'd judge."
"Let's try it with some acid. I've got two kinds here, right strong stuff. I use it for etching things out."
Bo rummaged out an old china saucer, into which he carefully slid the flattened fragment. Then he sought a shelf of bottles and chose two, with glass stoppers.
"Look out the way," he
Similar Books
