Read Online The Beyonders by Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Manly Wade Wellman, Lou Feck
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He opened the door, and . . . "Where did you come from?" he stammered.
Struve sat in the front room, grinning harshly. He had turned on the television and was watching a morning newscast of weather throughout the nation. "Out of the nowhere into the here," he replied easily. "That's what it said about a cute little baby, in a poem back in about the third reader. But you shouldn't yell out like that. Your neighbors might come poking around to see what there was to yell about."
Crispin came in, closed the door behind him, and set down his bag of groceries. "All right," he said. "I've been up to the Kimber settlement. I was there last night. I watched them baptizing. No stranger has ever seen that before."
"But you're not a complete stranger, are you?" mocked Struve. "I've always understood that you were of the authentic Kimber blood. Anyway, it was bound to be managed out all right. You were given the words to say to them that would let them know you're here for a specific purpose."
"Yes," said Crispin. "When I talked to Captain Kimber, I put the code words into what I said."
He sat down, too. Struve looked him over wryly, as though choosing a place to stab him with a needle.
"The time's beginning to get short, and we've got lots of work to do here," said Struve. "That Kimber place isn't enough of a base for the day it happens. Here in this little town, Sky Notch, things have got to be made ready for action. People here have got to be in a mood of acceptance, even welcome. What have you been doing to bring that about?"
He squinted and crinkled the grained, swarthy skin of his heavy jaws. "How about what's-his-name, His Honor the Mayor of this little narrow place off the main road?"
"Derwood Ballinger," said Crispin. "He's the sort that could be persuaded to anything that he thought was profitable, but it would take some telling to make him believe it."
"Then it will be up to us to show him. But what real friends have you made?"
"Gander Eye Gentry and Doc Hannum and several others," replied Crispin. "They're an independent set of people."
"Independent," said Struve after him. "Then they'll have to be persuaded of the error of independent ways. See here, my friend, those others are going to need considerable help to come in. If they get that help, they'll be grateful. Maybe they've already been grateful to that one you call Gander Eye, if he's the black-haired man who plays the banjo."
"That's who he is," said Crispin. "What do you mean about being grateful to him?"
"Just generosity," Struve drawled out slowly. He extended a hand and shut off the television. "Just putting him on the payroll, so to speak. Gold doesn't look bad to any man, and they've got a lot of that on hand. If they've taken him over, they'll take over the others, too. This Sky Notch place will be good base of operations for them and for people like you and me, running things for them."
Crispin looked at the floor. Struve yawned and stretched.
"It isn't a bad little backwater, at that," he went on. "I'm beginning to see its rustic charm. Why don't I just move in here with you and get to know some of these folks better?"
"No you don't, Struve."
"I don't?" Struve's eyes glittered. "I happen to be the one who says yes and no."
"I mean you'd spoil things. And don't glare at me, you know you'd spoil things."
Struve got to his feet. He laughed silently, a quaking laugh.
"Granted," he said. "I might do just that. But I'll keep looking in on you all the time. I told you we're getting close to D-Day for the Others. We'd better not keep them waiting."
He strolled off through the back of the house and out among the trees behind, where nobody could see him.
Crispin thought, silently and soberly and to some purpose. At last he went out the front door and crossed the bridge and headed for Gander Eye's little green house.
He knocked at the door and waited. No sound within. After several moments he walked around the house. There was Gander Eye, down at the
Struve sat in the front room, grinning harshly. He had turned on the television and was watching a morning newscast of weather throughout the nation. "Out of the nowhere into the here," he replied easily. "That's what it said about a cute little baby, in a poem back in about the third reader. But you shouldn't yell out like that. Your neighbors might come poking around to see what there was to yell about."
Crispin came in, closed the door behind him, and set down his bag of groceries. "All right," he said. "I've been up to the Kimber settlement. I was there last night. I watched them baptizing. No stranger has ever seen that before."
"But you're not a complete stranger, are you?" mocked Struve. "I've always understood that you were of the authentic Kimber blood. Anyway, it was bound to be managed out all right. You were given the words to say to them that would let them know you're here for a specific purpose."
"Yes," said Crispin. "When I talked to Captain Kimber, I put the code words into what I said."
He sat down, too. Struve looked him over wryly, as though choosing a place to stab him with a needle.
"The time's beginning to get short, and we've got lots of work to do here," said Struve. "That Kimber place isn't enough of a base for the day it happens. Here in this little town, Sky Notch, things have got to be made ready for action. People here have got to be in a mood of acceptance, even welcome. What have you been doing to bring that about?"
He squinted and crinkled the grained, swarthy skin of his heavy jaws. "How about what's-his-name, His Honor the Mayor of this little narrow place off the main road?"
"Derwood Ballinger," said Crispin. "He's the sort that could be persuaded to anything that he thought was profitable, but it would take some telling to make him believe it."
"Then it will be up to us to show him. But what real friends have you made?"
"Gander Eye Gentry and Doc Hannum and several others," replied Crispin. "They're an independent set of people."
"Independent," said Struve after him. "Then they'll have to be persuaded of the error of independent ways. See here, my friend, those others are going to need considerable help to come in. If they get that help, they'll be grateful. Maybe they've already been grateful to that one you call Gander Eye, if he's the black-haired man who plays the banjo."
"That's who he is," said Crispin. "What do you mean about being grateful to him?"
"Just generosity," Struve drawled out slowly. He extended a hand and shut off the television. "Just putting him on the payroll, so to speak. Gold doesn't look bad to any man, and they've got a lot of that on hand. If they've taken him over, they'll take over the others, too. This Sky Notch place will be good base of operations for them and for people like you and me, running things for them."
Crispin looked at the floor. Struve yawned and stretched.
"It isn't a bad little backwater, at that," he went on. "I'm beginning to see its rustic charm. Why don't I just move in here with you and get to know some of these folks better?"
"No you don't, Struve."
"I don't?" Struve's eyes glittered. "I happen to be the one who says yes and no."
"I mean you'd spoil things. And don't glare at me, you know you'd spoil things."
Struve got to his feet. He laughed silently, a quaking laugh.
"Granted," he said. "I might do just that. But I'll keep looking in on you all the time. I told you we're getting close to D-Day for the Others. We'd better not keep them waiting."
He strolled off through the back of the house and out among the trees behind, where nobody could see him.
Crispin thought, silently and soberly and to some purpose. At last he went out the front door and crossed the bridge and headed for Gander Eye's little green house.
He knocked at the door and waited. No sound within. After several moments he walked around the house. There was Gander Eye, down at the
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