Read Online The Beyonders by Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck - Free Book Online
Authors: Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck
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warned Gander Eye. "This here stuff could eat the soles right off your shoes."
With the utmost knowledgeable caution he drew the stopper from one bottle and leaned above the saucer to pour acid, drop by drop. He reclosed the bottle and squinted for a moment. He took a nail and probed the fragment. Then he opened the other bottle and dripped liquid from it in turn. A biting odor rose in the room. Again Bo used the nail to poke, and held it up.
"Looky there at the point," he invited. "That there acid sure enough works on iron, but it ain t grabbing onto your little piece of stuff any."
Gander Eye extended a cautious hand.
"I done told you, don't let that acid touch you," reminded Bo sharply. "Here, let me put in some water to sort of thin it out."
He did so, then poked the bit of metal back upon the flattened paper.
"I'd be apt to call it gold, Gander Eye," he said soberly. "How much of it you got around?"
"I told you, not much," replied Gander Eye, folding the paper and tucking it back in his shirt pocket.
"You don't need any great much. An ounce of gold is worth near about two hundred dollars these times." Bo thinned a smile at Gander Eye. "You don't act like a fellow about to tell his choice friends anything. But if you've found a gold mine somewheres, I want to partner with you to work it."
Gander Eye flashed a smile in return as he shook his head. "No, son, I ain't found no gold mine. Just a piece of it, is all."
Bo was back at the shelf of bottles. He brought down a fruit jar.
"I don't expect it's too early in the day for me and you to take a drink for old time's sake."
"I'll drink with you," said Gander Eye, "but I ain't telling you no more than what I've done told you already." He took the jar and tipped it up. "Poor old Duffy," he changed the subject. "I'll banter you he'd enjoy to have a good whet of this."
"Peggy wouldn't even let him dream about it," said Bo, drinking in turn.
They walked out into the yard again. James Crispin was walking down from Longcohr's store, a paper sack of groceries under his arm. Gander Eye hailed him and trotted to fall into step with him.
"How did you fare at the Kimber baptizing last night?" Gander Eye inquired.
"It was tremendously impressive, I thought," said Crispin. "It was like something before history, when mankind was working harder to respond to the mystic. They baptized a beautiful young girl."
"Shoo, is that a fact?" Gander Eye pursed his lips. "I'd have enjoyed to have been there and seen that."
"Probably you would have, but I'm an artist," smiled Crispin. "An artist thinks of the human bodv as something worth painting, interpreting. That's all."
"Shoo," said Gander Eye again. "I ain't going to buy that, Jim, about artists or either doctors looking at a pretty naked girl as no more than a business proposition."
"You'll have to ask Doc Hannum about how doctors feel. I'm just an artist, I can't speak for any other profession." Crispin gazed far away, as though toward the distant settlement of the Kimbers. "I'm going to paint that baptism scene. Captain Kimber told me I couldn't bring my paints there, but he also said he could hardly stop me from doing whatever work I wanted to do at home. That sounds more or less like permission, wouldn't you say?"
Crispin had a natural gift for getting whatever he wanted, Gander Eye reflected. They reached the road to the bridge and Crispin's cabin beyond. There they paused.
"Tell me just one true thing, Jim," said Gander Eye, "Did them Kimbers or anybody give you some sort of present?"
"They gave Slowly and me one of the best dinners I ever ate. They had deer meat, roasted in a pot buried underground like baked beans—"
"Sure enough, I know. The Kimbers will feed you good if they like you. But I meant a present of some kind."
"Why, no," said Crispin, "and I certainly didn't expect anything of that kind."
Gander Eye started again along the street toward home. Crispin turned to cross the bridge and go to his own cabin.
With the utmost knowledgeable caution he drew the stopper from one bottle and leaned above the saucer to pour acid, drop by drop. He reclosed the bottle and squinted for a moment. He took a nail and probed the fragment. Then he opened the other bottle and dripped liquid from it in turn. A biting odor rose in the room. Again Bo used the nail to poke, and held it up.
"Looky there at the point," he invited. "That there acid sure enough works on iron, but it ain t grabbing onto your little piece of stuff any."
Gander Eye extended a cautious hand.
"I done told you, don't let that acid touch you," reminded Bo sharply. "Here, let me put in some water to sort of thin it out."
He did so, then poked the bit of metal back upon the flattened paper.
"I'd be apt to call it gold, Gander Eye," he said soberly. "How much of it you got around?"
"I told you, not much," replied Gander Eye, folding the paper and tucking it back in his shirt pocket.
"You don't need any great much. An ounce of gold is worth near about two hundred dollars these times." Bo thinned a smile at Gander Eye. "You don't act like a fellow about to tell his choice friends anything. But if you've found a gold mine somewheres, I want to partner with you to work it."
Gander Eye flashed a smile in return as he shook his head. "No, son, I ain't found no gold mine. Just a piece of it, is all."
Bo was back at the shelf of bottles. He brought down a fruit jar.
"I don't expect it's too early in the day for me and you to take a drink for old time's sake."
"I'll drink with you," said Gander Eye, "but I ain't telling you no more than what I've done told you already." He took the jar and tipped it up. "Poor old Duffy," he changed the subject. "I'll banter you he'd enjoy to have a good whet of this."
"Peggy wouldn't even let him dream about it," said Bo, drinking in turn.
They walked out into the yard again. James Crispin was walking down from Longcohr's store, a paper sack of groceries under his arm. Gander Eye hailed him and trotted to fall into step with him.
"How did you fare at the Kimber baptizing last night?" Gander Eye inquired.
"It was tremendously impressive, I thought," said Crispin. "It was like something before history, when mankind was working harder to respond to the mystic. They baptized a beautiful young girl."
"Shoo, is that a fact?" Gander Eye pursed his lips. "I'd have enjoyed to have been there and seen that."
"Probably you would have, but I'm an artist," smiled Crispin. "An artist thinks of the human bodv as something worth painting, interpreting. That's all."
"Shoo," said Gander Eye again. "I ain't going to buy that, Jim, about artists or either doctors looking at a pretty naked girl as no more than a business proposition."
"You'll have to ask Doc Hannum about how doctors feel. I'm just an artist, I can't speak for any other profession." Crispin gazed far away, as though toward the distant settlement of the Kimbers. "I'm going to paint that baptism scene. Captain Kimber told me I couldn't bring my paints there, but he also said he could hardly stop me from doing whatever work I wanted to do at home. That sounds more or less like permission, wouldn't you say?"
Crispin had a natural gift for getting whatever he wanted, Gander Eye reflected. They reached the road to the bridge and Crispin's cabin beyond. There they paused.
"Tell me just one true thing, Jim," said Gander Eye, "Did them Kimbers or anybody give you some sort of present?"
"They gave Slowly and me one of the best dinners I ever ate. They had deer meat, roasted in a pot buried underground like baked beans—"
"Sure enough, I know. The Kimbers will feed you good if they like you. But I meant a present of some kind."
"Why, no," said Crispin, "and I certainly didn't expect anything of that kind."
Gander Eye started again along the street toward home. Crispin turned to cross the bridge and go to his own cabin.
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