tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54671054057921509472024-03-01T12:19:03.763-08:00new tales of the hotel st crispianrhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.comBlogger295125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-69265383357195788452018-10-02T12:19:00.000-07:002018-10-02T12:19:04.505-07:00the golden gumdrop caper, part 25<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "purple">manfred skyline</font>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "blue"> roy dismas </font> and <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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<br>
originally appeared in the june through september 1956 issues of <font = "purple"><i>last stop - excitement</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font></font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-golden-gumdrop-caper-part-24.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2015/08/the-golden-gumdrop-caper.html "><font color = "blue"> here </font></a>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD80UB6pD7eLveXF2Gb5vyRqvq0x1AYPQIvQ-QOVdzVd6dl3zsQH3NRluE_zYggFvG8fUghl7I7I3jWV8luuNwsGeRB2nuLiomCmj74ai36G_-nyrAvJ5AtA103JQEOc17SlfHZuWsmOh/s1600/153-gum-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD80UB6pD7eLveXF2Gb5vyRqvq0x1AYPQIvQ-QOVdzVd6dl3zsQH3NRluE_zYggFvG8fUghl7I7I3jWV8luuNwsGeRB2nuLiomCmj74ai36G_-nyrAvJ5AtA103JQEOc17SlfHZuWsmOh/s1600/153-gum-0.gif" data-original-width="399" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7xQ3OV4tJzGW2t6w9VmbsUTjesCIcNGdeEvbk3dOAHHVJmPhtWvBrWNHr44i_vMJhKnkFiGRnBcWjXHLBRcokY4ukQ1Xv1tu-Iqq_j7IzthViDLugEQjBqdxfCmRZ-aDkeMBjfOCk898/s1600/153-gum-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7xQ3OV4tJzGW2t6w9VmbsUTjesCIcNGdeEvbk3dOAHHVJmPhtWvBrWNHr44i_vMJhKnkFiGRnBcWjXHLBRcokY4ukQ1Xv1tu-Iqq_j7IzthViDLugEQjBqdxfCmRZ-aDkeMBjfOCk898/s1600/153-gum-a.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "navy">the train to pittsburgh had run a little late, and by the time hyacinth wilde retrieved her bags, had them hauled them out to the sidewalk by a redcap, engaged a cab a cab to the hotel, and seen the bags put in the trunk of the cab, she was about ready to wait until the next day to go in search of a pawnshop.
<p>
but once she was safely in the back seat of the cab, she decided that the show would go on, and she would just get it over with.
<p>
the driver was an older man with a red veined face and a weary look about him. he had seemed a bit
awed by hyacinth’s regal bearing, even though she had been polite enough and showed no impatience when he had struggled with her villainous baggage.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9O_nypZuUeqTp22IUFK41nLUjpC5YBqRYyBoz28wiBexDTLbxd4ObaAqmYF4Ac_tg5lqMmSOjoYbS0t9DFJG2zQI62XEQ_YdGCBwkq9KgpeS548xa6VqFW7MolcuB830DnrrK1iejZiGJ/s1600/153-gum-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9O_nypZuUeqTp22IUFK41nLUjpC5YBqRYyBoz28wiBexDTLbxd4ObaAqmYF4Ac_tg5lqMmSOjoYbS0t9DFJG2zQI62XEQ_YdGCBwkq9KgpeS548xa6VqFW7MolcuB830DnrrK1iejZiGJ/s1600/153-gum-b.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“what’s your name?” hyacinth asked him as they finally pulled away from the curb.
<p>
“joe, miss.”
<p>
“you know this town pretty well, joe?”
<p>
“i’ve lived here all my life, miss, and driven a cab for thirty years.”
<p>
“then you must know where i can find a pawn shop.”
<p>
“i do, indeed, miss, i know where every pawn shop in town is.”
<p>
“great. then take me to the nearest one, please.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmnp72uReoodxqMqJVkkZAUlGTLnreHvlwaQf0fu1xaQQ8zQSTJ9feBodAdMDliPTDsfDg2P3EoY9EJdW6loHR7LQ4HTlDsupVdT1Ef_V3UdOjyqJC05-rDB98Ofjgj1-NbpgyiqrEWNZ/s1600/153-gum-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigmnp72uReoodxqMqJVkkZAUlGTLnreHvlwaQf0fu1xaQQ8zQSTJ9feBodAdMDliPTDsfDg2P3EoY9EJdW6loHR7LQ4HTlDsupVdT1Ef_V3UdOjyqJC05-rDB98Ofjgj1-NbpgyiqrEWNZ/s1600/153-gum-c.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“oh, you don’t want the nearest one. you want a good one, i know a good one, the best.”
<p>
probably his brother-in-law’s, she thought, or one he gets a little kickback from. “all right,” she told him, “as long as it is not too out of the way.”
<p>
“it is not at all out of the way, miss. it is just a few blocks away.”
<p>
“fine. as long as it is just a few blocks.”
<p>
“should i wait for you, miss? when we get there?”
<p>
“yes, please.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBskwE9Bt5sTESN-9B51qe6DuxjaGkErOYa1SGwGoOErJER5MDMBywAvm0jwd4kuTtRwqEtSL6BLmkM0DQyG4YkhBSjlelXIis4rqFp536iC8GbuBM5ezt2xqx_e9u7WjhpbAO2TU4xqy/s1600/153-gum-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBskwE9Bt5sTESN-9B51qe6DuxjaGkErOYa1SGwGoOErJER5MDMBywAvm0jwd4kuTtRwqEtSL6BLmkM0DQyG4YkhBSjlelXIis4rqFp536iC8GbuBM5ezt2xqx_e9u7WjhpbAO2TU4xqy/s1600/153-gum-d.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
the pawn shop was indeed only a couple of blocks away. so far, so good. hyacinth had not been to a pawn shop in years, but the “best” one - “ace loans” - looked like all the ones she remembered. it all came back to her as she entered the shop, but did not bring a tear to her eye.
<p>
the little man behind the counter was right out of central casting. almost surely the proprietor himself. this is all very smooth, hyacinth thought, everything is going to be all right, what was i worrying about?
<p>
“can i help you, miss?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOK7f28Mkuk9QPeCltv8cJ94t-m-uFBreQz0B8zHvOlL4uug3lvxTC2hyphenhyphenwISjVi2akh9tceUZY1hkotUa3k9yDIGxV7XYwZZp8PdvNbcqBX0skn6Vbi3fCSCTg2r41sChwDkt7s_htu09i/s1600/153-gum-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOK7f28Mkuk9QPeCltv8cJ94t-m-uFBreQz0B8zHvOlL4uug3lvxTC2hyphenhyphenwISjVi2akh9tceUZY1hkotUa3k9yDIGxV7XYwZZp8PdvNbcqBX0skn6Vbi3fCSCTg2r41sChwDkt7s_htu09i/s1600/153-gum-e.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes. i have an item here. it belonged to my aunt, who passed away recently. she left it to me, along with some items of purely sentimental value.”
<p>
the little man nodded.
<p>
“i have no idea what it is worth, if anything,” hyacinth gave the little man her best smile.
<p>
“may i see it?”
<p>
hyacinth produced the golden gumdrop, which she had wrapped in a plain white handkerchief.
<p>
the little man picked it up casually. and then - he got the same look on his face phil wheeler had when hyacinth had shown him the gumdrop. even more so - he actually looked a little frightened.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcySjR_reH-i-VQZHxjH3qyy51yBCY4kbyLTG9ExU43I1v9n4Vg92-Xko0jQpYNVBibkUZRgTZEsADscIbMQngTuTrnYlldRiQ8x35BQFVDgfs4pUGeUVBd6mhrr9FEoDeNDRxZdHC0B_/s1600/153-gum-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcySjR_reH-i-VQZHxjH3qyy51yBCY4kbyLTG9ExU43I1v9n4Vg92-Xko0jQpYNVBibkUZRgTZEsADscIbMQngTuTrnYlldRiQ8x35BQFVDgfs4pUGeUVBd6mhrr9FEoDeNDRxZdHC0B_/s1600/153-gum-f.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
hyacinth could see him making an effort not to look up sharply at her.
<p>
“i don’t think i can give you anything for this, miss.”
<p>
all right, she thought, that is enough of this. i am not going to spend my life trying to get a few dollars for this thing.
<p>
“i see. well, it probably had some sentimental value for my aunt.”
<p>
“no doubt. but i could not ask any kind of price for it myself. you understand. “
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiAjJaWInrZmm2USLkvI8c2Lp6YIbFZAKtxDh8dLBYZy70tJvFuawvoZChUOrvPptkHG50GmYYqKFVFXnpMnTygzFSplB_ylhTRbIxlWPob9H6hbfrL5mO7IMH3PMQasxTt-0IEL2WVRH/s1600/153-gum-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiAjJaWInrZmm2USLkvI8c2Lp6YIbFZAKtxDh8dLBYZy70tJvFuawvoZChUOrvPptkHG50GmYYqKFVFXnpMnTygzFSplB_ylhTRbIxlWPob9H6hbfrL5mO7IMH3PMQasxTt-0IEL2WVRH/s1600/153-gum-g.gif" data-original-width="300" data-original-height="300" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes. well, thank you for your time.”
<p>
hyacinth went back outside to the waiting cab.
<p>
“that was quick, miss,” joe observed as he opened the door for her.
<p>
“yes, it was.”
<p>
“old jonah knows his business.”
<p>
“yes, he does. take me to the hotel, please.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAkRLuAeEuL0SiPso39I2oA3qJbh038s0r9SkmDWHvY1Ie8gmr9-RMfE6tZlGwWdvwsLBA3V1Lb48cpy2pVtl8qSlP_aK81G0E4emZPMue48y8t3X9PQ_AYwNpMyqbfW6p5Jl2Zx0QbOp/s1600/153-gum-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAkRLuAeEuL0SiPso39I2oA3qJbh038s0r9SkmDWHvY1Ie8gmr9-RMfE6tZlGwWdvwsLBA3V1Lb48cpy2pVtl8qSlP_aK81G0E4emZPMue48y8t3X9PQ_AYwNpMyqbfW6p5Jl2Zx0QbOp/s1600/153-gum-h.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
after seeing her bags up to her room, hyacinth went down to the hotel bar.
<p>
“i have a question for you,” she said to the bartender, after he placed her double martini in front of her.
<p>
“yes, miss?”
<p>
“are there any rivers in this town?”
<p>
the bartender laughed politely, as if hyacinth had made a little joke. “indeed there are, miss. pittsburgh is known of the city of three rivers.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvirne2x1hi1nh7xVl8353yrCxHimXhpiel7_OTI6LS-wdoQkfwmFBuekLd0iXfLhOUrUA7C_obSs1oZnlpareZ58x4EhqwDV-_hnozhjiyyUOxvNmNd9xTFnnZzBKK4eaUX4XzpnoTCS/s1600/153-gum-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyvirne2x1hi1nh7xVl8353yrCxHimXhpiel7_OTI6LS-wdoQkfwmFBuekLd0iXfLhOUrUA7C_obSs1oZnlpareZ58x4EhqwDV-_hnozhjiyyUOxvNmNd9xTFnnZzBKK4eaUX4XzpnoTCS/s1600/153-gum-i.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<br>
“you don’t say so. any of them right around the corner?”
<p>
“the monongohela is two blocks away. “ the bartender smiled. “i hope you are not thinking of jumping into it?”
<p>
“ha ha. no, i just - i just like to walk beside rivers at night. it is very soothing, and i get a good night’s sleep.”
<p>
“well, that is all right then.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
hyacinth watched as the golden gumdrop descended into the depths of the mononghohela river.
<p>
so much for that, she thought.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-hiu1LcjMWx-PKhGSxUrSz0iZxBckojmxRhh3-UQn7e91g8Z6olfhCNievCDCYmRnA_Ou4nenGEY_vxh8QHPM5l2yLcEKuq1ry7MJ401aRFsRKl3lQcjMQzbwLs15pEP-8L5q-l3abXA/s1600/153-gum-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-hiu1LcjMWx-PKhGSxUrSz0iZxBckojmxRhh3-UQn7e91g8Z6olfhCNievCDCYmRnA_Ou4nenGEY_vxh8QHPM5l2yLcEKuq1ry7MJ401aRFsRKl3lQcjMQzbwLs15pEP-8L5q-l3abXA/s1600/153-gum-j.gif" data-original-width="240" data-original-height="240" /></a></div>
<p>
she went back to the hotel, and true to her word, got a good night’s sleep.
<p>
but how deep is any river?</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><font color = "red"><b>the end</b></font></center>
<p>
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</td></tr></table>
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rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-87978652770429559402016-12-26T17:07:00.000-08:002016-12-26T17:07:04.966-08:00games, part 25<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/12/games-part-24.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
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<table bgcolor = "black" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIZ9zFDI7T9aIRj6bdHr907G0Dp58K9SXEzm49jltc_r0PXq1URxuPTuEaLnmsPvPl-InvnW-31FPWvcVlcSfmA-qSuoYrvCk1cONiehJzSlwEKoCOlS9S1G2leFulZ3vBW1kklnqAdP1/s1600/152-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIZ9zFDI7T9aIRj6bdHr907G0Dp58K9SXEzm49jltc_r0PXq1URxuPTuEaLnmsPvPl-InvnW-31FPWvcVlcSfmA-qSuoYrvCk1cONiehJzSlwEKoCOlS9S1G2leFulZ3vBW1kklnqAdP1/s1600/152-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EsOQPgqkxBvB-27xiAUx0R5gYYYNpE3g8irqWtQ_aWHywFG1wsR6D5vQADF3XssQDpwxM4FRSte0e3_aQsII_Sk6WlOxOQRV0-NpGO-QZPuwvvinffSQzgu7gELgrIcfq0QvvIbxo73P/s1600/152-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6EsOQPgqkxBvB-27xiAUx0R5gYYYNpE3g8irqWtQ_aWHywFG1wsR6D5vQADF3XssQDpwxM4FRSte0e3_aQsII_Sk6WlOxOQRV0-NpGO-QZPuwvvinffSQzgu7gELgrIcfq0QvvIbxo73P/s1600/152-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "black">edna got her hat and coat and purse and went out to her car.
<p>
before getting into it she took another look around. it was not easy to see in the wind and rain, but there was no sign of mister garver or his car, and she felt reassured that the tail lights she had seen going back towards town had indeed been his.
<p>
now she just had to find julie, who could not have gotten very far..
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEr6R6KCIA0QOwfR36hky2BTxbHLTZauLK_eMZo_4hPvIAlZAoCy1TgCqqcWO4gaHla9JEDSZv1eejLy7i3Xle7o3rWzI77ul6TkcX6owdk20TG5yCdK5-w9pVMFRbGzT06xt_nsLMIx_E/s1600/152-games-b.-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEr6R6KCIA0QOwfR36hky2BTxbHLTZauLK_eMZo_4hPvIAlZAoCy1TgCqqcWO4gaHla9JEDSZv1eejLy7i3Xle7o3rWzI77ul6TkcX6owdk20TG5yCdK5-w9pVMFRbGzT06xt_nsLMIx_E/s1600/152-games-b.-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
suddenly a thought hit her. could garver have grabbed julie? was that why he was speeding away?
<p>
no, she thought. there had not been enough time. even if julie had somehow run back around to the front of the house - and why would she do that? - and run right into garver, she, edna would have heard some sounds of a struggle.
<p>
edna started her car up, backed out of the driveway and headed slowly down the street. she decided to start by circling the block taking the first right, to come around to the street where the house behind her own was located.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xcIp4joSrcz0PLuSV6hwJ2OW87HtGgfc6L7qHxdogDLZmMvxZDiug315OVjRhzdwo4iymnuVKIFuxMCc3Gk86jqkic_FQrjePphBVQbhFHjHd4r25zOHUorA3YvSLIMqUSYT8WjuPQbu/s1600/152-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xcIp4joSrcz0PLuSV6hwJ2OW87HtGgfc6L7qHxdogDLZmMvxZDiug315OVjRhzdwo4iymnuVKIFuxMCc3Gk86jqkic_FQrjePphBVQbhFHjHd4r25zOHUorA3YvSLIMqUSYT8WjuPQbu/s1600/152-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob lifted the heavy knocker on the door of the brightly lit-up house.
<p>
if he had looked closely at the knocker - which he did not - he might have noticed that it took the form of a leering ugly face. which the sculptor had probably intended to be some greek god like bacchus, but which the townsfolk walking by had always taken to be the devil.
<p>
god or devil, nobody answered when bob banged on the door with it.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkkRHjrp8FXwFzASJSxj0IW3uy4jGXk3xlNcoxU-MLSGt8m3jrYtZlzZzqyvscevtDMU9oNuG6kBQhINlMGjKy5PN9MF8jf4s2TFrgLBuwkY5V4l_NAUrADURpEJo3PvMWH3ZSP1s1lv6/s1600/152-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWkkRHjrp8FXwFzASJSxj0IW3uy4jGXk3xlNcoxU-MLSGt8m3jrYtZlzZzqyvscevtDMU9oNuG6kBQhINlMGjKy5PN9MF8jf4s2TFrgLBuwkY5V4l_NAUrADURpEJo3PvMWH3ZSP1s1lv6/s1600/152-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
julie looked back at the street. the car that had frightened her because she thought it might be mister garver’s, had passed without slowing down.
<p>
now she felt more afraid of the strangely silent house. “maybe we should just forget it,” she told bob.
<p>
bob stopped knocking and tried the handle of the door.
<p>
it opened easily.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrpOsZujD3Luw0SLfFnlNbLr7ZOcZvIhMrP_GXz9wFRAPWp3wk3GqSx2xhQr4Fo_KtKe1ubxzaZ2Wh9BHsXSOlUBG9DDTDjShGm9DMmrsJpJRnU56gV75KmI2DNCzRcNfW66_07o1Ixs6/s1600/152-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrpOsZujD3Luw0SLfFnlNbLr7ZOcZvIhMrP_GXz9wFRAPWp3wk3GqSx2xhQr4Fo_KtKe1ubxzaZ2Wh9BHsXSOlUBG9DDTDjShGm9DMmrsJpJRnU56gV75KmI2DNCzRcNfW66_07o1Ixs6/s1600/152-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob took a step inside. he could see into a room off to the left. it was brightly lit and filled with heavy furniture but there was no sign of any living thing.
<p>
“anybody home?” bob called.
<p>
nobody answered.
<p>
bob took a couple of steps into the house. julie held back in the doorway, then took a step inside, just to get out of the rain.
<p>
the wind slammed the door shut behind her.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbGphGTYkiTZ7rSpSUZh0vbQblyHgSdzhZfwyM-ePYW49H2KBiBEDD_cZMxXzYFI6M2K5blaoxPbIGdub96VFro8uxlupw_r5-jFlvKG375A14SwAEiwzIOz66YtoX6asqbgZSlHrzFvW/s1600/152-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbGphGTYkiTZ7rSpSUZh0vbQblyHgSdzhZfwyM-ePYW49H2KBiBEDD_cZMxXzYFI6M2K5blaoxPbIGdub96VFro8uxlupw_r5-jFlvKG375A14SwAEiwzIOz66YtoX6asqbgZSlHrzFvW/s1600/152-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
seated at the kitchen table of the boarding house, hal listened glumly as rosie, sal, jenny and brenda took turns telling stories about the old morris place and about how many people had tried to get their hands on old mrs morris’s money for thirty years or more but nothing ever came of it.
<p>
even if they are wrong, he thought, and there is something there, and somehow i could get it, these people here would all, but especially rosie, know it was me and be able to set the law on me.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMr8DLjIM3l3bZZkJhU6b7Uy0ofeKp9NbSNIoVSkQJjsixmw9n5xodqsUxJbTTITR4O5iMSxB8GjoLx9_WyfK7YcgACyror1jEJw3MRxHbfRGGSuGocYhBhzivWD4rv1mLkFntUdaJT9Pk/s1600/152-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMr8DLjIM3l3bZZkJhU6b7Uy0ofeKp9NbSNIoVSkQJjsixmw9n5xodqsUxJbTTITR4O5iMSxB8GjoLx9_WyfK7YcgACyror1jEJw3MRxHbfRGGSuGocYhBhzivWD4rv1mLkFntUdaJT9Pk/s1600/152-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
i should just forget it, he thought, and move on down the road.
<p>
suddenly hal just wanted to get out of the boarding house and move on.
<p>
hal put his coffee cup down. he had finished his pie. “sounds like the storm is letting up a bit,” he said.
<p>
the others listened.
<p>
“maybe a little bit,” brenda told him. “but it is probably just a lull.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aNqEuKKR9pz5sgKLmtv6ZMgyz8xjue5y4_OFFFyXU2RONw-OXNSFU3zWQ8yoGe8CTfInH6Ownojpc1NbOnKMwFY4DQM2vssGZL1U2Z_9ozNl24OLTeKUw7WdTyVfIa9-DrPGsmh7p8zu/s1600/152-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aNqEuKKR9pz5sgKLmtv6ZMgyz8xjue5y4_OFFFyXU2RONw-OXNSFU3zWQ8yoGe8CTfInH6Ownojpc1NbOnKMwFY4DQM2vssGZL1U2Z_9ozNl24OLTeKUw7WdTyVfIa9-DrPGsmh7p8zu/s1600/152-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“then i think i will take advantage, and move out,” said hal. “i’ll go wake up my friends, and we will be on our way, “
<p>
“jeez, cowboy, that’s not being very friendly,” said rosie. “if you don’t want to listen to a bunch of chattering women, you can just go to bed. you don’t have to go out and get blown away in a hurricane.”
<p>
“no, i think it’s letting up, and i just want to get going. i got a busy day ahead of me!” hal stood up. “i thank you for your hospitality, missus.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpimni3Y3ZzdplWr9LeG-sZVrUGED4lF2uBc6WafyYd5am_nyfYwpv0D7V8uYIx_TGa1E_ZwuiOc8qXqSTCfS9YVEPVw-SLlFUhQQwGuE8n8ZyxpgjcfG12mLdT9OcezDbVPzWRTZx2rv0/s1600/152-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpimni3Y3ZzdplWr9LeG-sZVrUGED4lF2uBc6WafyYd5am_nyfYwpv0D7V8uYIx_TGa1E_ZwuiOc8qXqSTCfS9YVEPVw-SLlFUhQQwGuE8n8ZyxpgjcfG12mLdT9OcezDbVPzWRTZx2rv0/s1600/152-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“suit yourself, “ brenda told him. “you paid for the night.”
<p>
“ha, ha! don’t worry, missus, i don’t want my money back.”
<p>
“do you really think it’s letting up?” sal asked, when hal had left.
<p>
“it might be,” said brenda. “then again, it might not.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzgWQcLJMuK8w0GR-ojeLsUK5a9Ed0jSo5P-AwcqJDf2fS4NHaysJllnulFhfFjp_23mFFst1OmaEMlnJUxrnTkGWpokRAC_Yf5JdLrCbMIoJpMjTyCzF_gFvd5BpXCBZdxlF39WCMXwh/s1600/152-games-j-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvzgWQcLJMuK8w0GR-ojeLsUK5a9Ed0jSo5P-AwcqJDf2fS4NHaysJllnulFhfFjp_23mFFst1OmaEMlnJUxrnTkGWpokRAC_Yf5JdLrCbMIoJpMjTyCzF_gFvd5BpXCBZdxlF39WCMXwh/s1600/152-games-j-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
edna made the right turn, fighting the wind.
<p>
as she did she thought she caught a glimpse of the old jasperson house.
<p>
were there lights on in it?
<p>
that couldn’t be. it had been abandoned for years, although something or somebody - probably the bank - kept the house and the grounds from going to seed.
<p>
no, there were no lights on, edna saw as she completed the turn and approached the corner where the big old house stood silent.
<p>
it must have been a trick of the wind.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgg4TxavhSHxWWyLmDXGZorM-ogRPB4jSiSL9Gz75nsb39VZYNAyk5jDjn8W6rskoiHnsGbMDFJAn7LJM3SRSTDkomdm8jYP1l9YgCiauEb4Lq7E7m4lMMhgh5UHb5SloXmDHORL5A0qq/s1600/152-games-k-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgg4TxavhSHxWWyLmDXGZorM-ogRPB4jSiSL9Gz75nsb39VZYNAyk5jDjn8W6rskoiHnsGbMDFJAn7LJM3SRSTDkomdm8jYP1l9YgCiauEb4Lq7E7m4lMMhgh5UHb5SloXmDHORL5A0qq/s1600/152-games-k-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
she drove past the dark house and down the street looking for julie.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtdVOT87DyTFx7TGwKI9JLbhlfbVY7hlDIMTmSgOR63p837pMkbhMCWVRzljIJ6aFIJ_DLZ68zRfuLN29OwBcHDx5OZQOWVEE8kZ_sxIxFZdE6AzUTBSqlYzqcSwV5pqYnnj7Hc_vBtV5/s1600/152-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYtdVOT87DyTFx7TGwKI9JLbhlfbVY7hlDIMTmSgOR63p837pMkbhMCWVRzljIJ6aFIJ_DLZ68zRfuLN29OwBcHDx5OZQOWVEE8kZ_sxIxFZdE6AzUTBSqlYzqcSwV5pqYnnj7Hc_vBtV5/s1600/152-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor got down to the basement.
<p>
the way the house had started to shake had given him a bit of a scare, but the shaking had stopped.
<p>
even better, he had discovered once again, after having forgotten about it again, the little note in his pocket the old woman had given him with the directions to dig up the money in the basement.
<p>
nothing could stop him now.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-4u5iKWz13sg_u9dk5wSTAIuAyeQtzuxOMdzUCM4Q16EVTgk2jpLE0WglXIWIfZawLFVy3EAjDDrQgjsVFO3KbBuJT8YPpFleVZTKlxV3Jw8iLsTOfM1QvoksiIldN7w09hbkdQ37Gvw/s1600/152-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-4u5iKWz13sg_u9dk5wSTAIuAyeQtzuxOMdzUCM4Q16EVTgk2jpLE0WglXIWIfZawLFVy3EAjDDrQgjsVFO3KbBuJT8YPpFleVZTKlxV3Jw8iLsTOfM1QvoksiIldN7w09hbkdQ37Gvw/s1600/152-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he had not been able to find a flashlight or any other light, but his eyes were getting accustomed to the dark.
<p>
had the old woman said something about a shovel?
<p>
there it was! against the boiler, just like she said.
<p>
suddenly - was the house shaking again? it was hard to tell down here in the basement.
<p>
the professor moved toward the shovel.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiognQLdge5huHEz97AJFmQGVAxk2UlO9zZHHj25tWnhDv-92zemnw4sLRHIqYIBVMcE8PGD17qwacptrA1-V1sQ1cbZtsmWW9IJaG7dMQ9Op3FG5xlXvj2PyVZQjLdUdnBxCj90Kk-crTv/s1600/152-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiognQLdge5huHEz97AJFmQGVAxk2UlO9zZHHj25tWnhDv-92zemnw4sLRHIqYIBVMcE8PGD17qwacptrA1-V1sQ1cbZtsmWW9IJaG7dMQ9Op3FG5xlXvj2PyVZQjLdUdnBxCj90Kk-crTv/s1600/152-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i think we are coming up to the place,” said hal, squinting through the windshield.
<p>
“what difference does it make now?” cindy asked. she was lying across the back seat of the packard, trying to get some sleep.
<p>
neither cindy nor duke had been very enthusiastic about being awakened, or by hal’s decision to get away in the “lull” in the storm.
<p>
especially since the lull, such as it was, seemed to be over.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZInyugXjdd5zOcI8sH1OrJuJBFLqjVuA7LT7tlRCT35B897Vz3DkvhIsAcHa_uH0VTzIN1czc8wxIc8F6B7iQkmtxFwqlp8ohyphenhyphenCH49rL7yZnEmDvL6iANOVw8Cv8CyZOnxUwC3kv7EzoA/s1600/152-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width = "300" height = "200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZInyugXjdd5zOcI8sH1OrJuJBFLqjVuA7LT7tlRCT35B897Vz3DkvhIsAcHa_uH0VTzIN1czc8wxIc8F6B7iQkmtxFwqlp8ohyphenhyphenCH49rL7yZnEmDvL6iANOVw8Cv8CyZOnxUwC3kv7EzoA/s1600/152-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
and neither of them understood why hal, even if he was giving up on his plans on the morris place, could not just wait until morning and the storm had passed before moving on.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZMLiAGiNbgozjkOTztTEgT9XMDA0t0G_tkLlmXWI9YVWMCoz_2RuB-zp8FUj-9XgyqkQFNYm5fudhFE19h2VDkjStVaxt7_FHzSbIKf4eh-scLL1_QTSdQ_uydCmyzwuyTzRwfnbiJWvh/s1600/152-games-p-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i9CY-
EhAsvk/WGGvqSgnLII/AAAAAAACme8/LUsLf2K5LvENKrg3RwabuW6oF7JEL-rrACLcB/s1600/152-games-p-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
and getting the breakfast they had already paid for.
<p>
hal didn’t really understand it himself, now that he thought about it.
<p>
but when a guy’s got to move on, he’s got to move on.
<p>
that’s what it meant to be a rambling man.
<p>
duke, in the front seat with hal, was taking the situation more philosophically than cindy.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIynG0zhawdzZCE5PZ4lnMQ8coGvKOqdSl1Ox_Ptqh0dsu-FNBV0sUP6lGpcEtnlMSm1mjHcZAyU-UizWKrrK27TPMpXKKOkHwzZU4kGrRpwc9WO2mjYRPYLnL-3YpVT8Po2MmO3RoChXM/s1600/152-games-q-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIynG0zhawdzZCE5PZ4lnMQ8coGvKOqdSl1Ox_Ptqh0dsu-FNBV0sUP6lGpcEtnlMSm1mjHcZAyU-UizWKrrK27TPMpXKKOkHwzZU4kGrRpwc9WO2mjYRPYLnL-3YpVT8Po2MmO3RoChXM/s1600/152-games-q-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“is that it?” duke asked hal. he pointed to a big house on a hill, barely visible in the darkness.
<p>
“i think it is,” said hal. he pulled over and they both stared up at the house.
<p>
with a sigh, cindy pushed herself up and looked out the car window.
<p>
“jeez,” she said, looking at the house, “it looks like it’s shaking.”
<p>
and as they watched, the whole big house collapsed in on itself, sending enormous clouds of dust and plaster and splinters and debris into the air and into the wind and rain.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxXPdKB-B0XytvQbdFeEtW0FXTKk7hplPfP0vvW7J8sqAu672v7w7B-mXbmh30K25VQI36W2jSGHjU4r1RY0NCgUk7Ik8eJNQrFHpljrbNW8Ms2F-ZqUSssO7VFIpCAz3PmENsQNBz0xu/s1600/collapse-alt-2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "300" width = "300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxXPdKB-B0XytvQbdFeEtW0FXTKk7hplPfP0vvW7J8sqAu672v7w7B-mXbmh30K25VQI36W2jSGHjU4r1RY0NCgUk7Ik8eJNQrFHpljrbNW8Ms2F-ZqUSssO7VFIpCAz3PmENsQNBz0xu/s1600/collapse-alt-2.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
“wow,” said duke. “that was like a bomb or something. i never saw nothing like that, even on the fourth of july.”
<p>
“let’s get out of here,” said cindy. “before we get blamed for it.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittqQqXrWW-dWQawPcb8MvnFpGuDj1yj3t8cNeyZQLP4Fw5W1jh5_Wzuzf8RRcNvlEzmTWRlVnldyBobOy2S-d01Y1TU3mO65YcnI_A9YL77emo1iQ9s3mpuhsObjqwL9BBZq8ojfGEwku/s1600/152-games-s.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEittqQqXrWW-dWQawPcb8MvnFpGuDj1yj3t8cNeyZQLP4Fw5W1jh5_Wzuzf8RRcNvlEzmTWRlVnldyBobOy2S-d01Y1TU3mO65YcnI_A9YL77emo1iQ9s3mpuhsObjqwL9BBZq8ojfGEwku/s1600/152-games-s.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the storm ended, just in time for edna to get back to work at the lunch counter of the bus station in the morning.
<p>
she had not gotten any sleep, and had not been able to find julie.
<p>
well, she thought, as she put her apron on and started making a pot of coffee, she will either show up.
<p>
or she won’t.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><font color = "red"> the end</font></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-80502535118231190662016-12-15T14:55:00.000-08:002016-12-26T17:07:38.683-08:00games, part 24<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/12/games-part-23.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<font color = "black"><b><i>“you got a smoke?” rosie asked hal.</i></b>
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uh, sure,” hal answered. he exhaled, apparently recovered from his shock at seeing rosie.
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“you two know each other?” brenda asked, “not that it’s any of my business.”
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“oh, yeah, we know each other,” rosie answered. “we go way back. well, maybe not so far back as all that.”
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hal had taken a crumpled pack of old golds out of his pocket and was looking inside it. “it looks like i only got two left,” he told rosie.
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“that’s good, that means i won’t be taking your last one. not that i wouldn’t take your last one, “ rosie laughed.
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“you know, missus,” sal addressed brenda as hal was lighting his next to last cigarette in rosie’s lips, “we really appreciate your letting us come up here like this, don’t we, rosie?”
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“for sure,” rosie agreed, blowing a smoke ring.
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“you got a heart of gold, missus,” sal continued. “just like your daughter here. i always tell her, she has the heart of all the nine golden virgins rolled up in one, and the saints in heaven too.”
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“you don’t say so,” brenda laughed. “and look at her, she’s not even blushing.”
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“that’s because i’ve told her before,” said sal.
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“don’t get me wrong, i appreciate being up here,” rosie said to brenda. “but did somebody say something about making ourselves useful?”
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“maybe later,” brenda told her. “i’ll let you know. for now, just sit down and relax.” she pulled a chair away from the kitchen table and nodded to rosie to sit down in it.
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“yes, you two just sit down for now and i’ll get you some pie,” jenny told rosie and sal.
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“well, i was just going to bed, so i’ll see you all later,” said hal.
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“what!” rosie cried. “you don’t want to talk about old times? come on, cowboy, have a seat, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
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hal hesitated. if he left, who knew what rosie would tell them about him? he didn’t care about the girl, or rosie’s friend, but the landlady…
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“sure,” hal agreed. “why not?” he pulled a chair up across from rosie. “i’d like some pie, too, miss,’ he told jenny. “if you don’t mind.”
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<center>*</center>
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the professor woke up.
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he didn’t know where he was or who he was.
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as this happened to him often, he was not unduly perturbed.
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he was lying on a strange bed - a huge old four-poster bed. he was wearing clothes several sizes too large for him.
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he sat up and looked around. he was in what was obviously a woman’s bedroom. but there was no sign of a woman or any other living creature.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kCPiCzYPtKpBMLYBAO5Sq29Aa9WQlyG3WDLTiqWqb4HJcbcFNDvnMv66R8G2NPcLKcPvtBpEp9E5jFuopR2yUJCrjbZwcmj1Nl2hMq6np0NUn86h_eVp2RCIj6Z-Wl3UXvm5PXrCIQJJ/s1600/151-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kCPiCzYPtKpBMLYBAO5Sq29Aa9WQlyG3WDLTiqWqb4HJcbcFNDvnMv66R8G2NPcLKcPvtBpEp9E5jFuopR2yUJCrjbZwcmj1Nl2hMq6np0NUn86h_eVp2RCIj6Z-Wl3UXvm5PXrCIQJJ/s1600/151-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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what there was a sign of was a raging storm, battering at the windows of the bedroom.
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he got up and headed for the door of the bedroom. he almost tripped over the rolled up cuffs of the pants he was wearing.
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there was a railing on a landing outside the bedroom, looking down over a large room with a big dark fireplace.
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the professor saw tracks of mud on the landing and on the stairs and in front of a large oak door on the ground floor.
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things started to come back to him.
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<p>
money. millions of dollars… buried in the basement…
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suddenly the house started to shake.
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<center>*</center>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6rMSD05OF91Xw728h1_EL6VDPSAKZCPAYlQqLVSPfs7UE41DlaVl-8sdgHM2SZCmr3HUvEItb0C0aKT3yzqoWbAyP6h6jnslHYABHt7XJjxtUPqgs0U-Z9on5VkjZu60HVdQxDEFyoVs/s1600/151-games-i.-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6rMSD05OF91Xw728h1_EL6VDPSAKZCPAYlQqLVSPfs7UE41DlaVl-8sdgHM2SZCmr3HUvEItb0C0aKT3yzqoWbAyP6h6jnslHYABHt7XJjxtUPqgs0U-Z9on5VkjZu60HVdQxDEFyoVs/s1600/151-games-i.-soft.gif" /></a></div>
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julie looked up at the house.
<p>
so brightly lit, and yet so quiet. and with nobody visible through the brightly lit windows. shouldn’tt there be somebody walking around in there?
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“come on,” bob said, “what are you waiting for?’ he was halfway up the walk to the front door.
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“i don’t know,” said julie. “it’s… kind of scary.”
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“what can happen?” bob asked. “i’ll protect you,” he added gallantly. “and besides, at least it will be dry.”
<p>
julie still hesitated. then she heard a car coming down the street.
<p>
mister garver!
<p>
julie hurried up the walk and joined bob.
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bob looked for a bell but could not find one. there was a heavy knocker on the door and he lifted it .
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<center>*</center>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuNAMLAEelSBf0x_pWCF5qFUHAfcxo31W-TwgNXr3tVZOxicxmiynuKfnpilkD-4qX5dz1SD94PDCJfdZy_mMJ7Af1D2B2TJdr27dmvgL1mXjG36-1khPjqMkjxY6vT38Vz3jlqGCyVQ4/s1600/151-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuNAMLAEelSBf0x_pWCF5qFUHAfcxo31W-TwgNXr3tVZOxicxmiynuKfnpilkD-4qX5dz1SD94PDCJfdZy_mMJ7Af1D2B2TJdr27dmvgL1mXjG36-1khPjqMkjxY6vT38Vz3jlqGCyVQ4/s1600/151-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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brenda had gone back to her room, after leaving the blankets, flashlights and candles in the pantry.
<p>
jenny stayed in the kitchen with rosie, sal, and hal, after giving them all pie, and sal and rosie some coffee. she wanted to keep an eye on them even though she was pretty sure - well, she hoped - rosie and sal wouldn’t steal anything.
<p>
“so, cowboy,” rosie asked hal. “how have you been? still looking for that big score? always looking for that big score, that’s what i remember about you.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibwvrl23Tt7u0msKWc0OYdi_4XDa6lHFn63GN0CTE2qDhqMQk_gTWFwSlbBHm87bLBUgBbNKVZX13SKudWNgntoTWEPSC7oN2L3-A-Enm8jwksH06tbykcO5WdBCpIEmMSKKKqIhDoavRF/s1600/151-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibwvrl23Tt7u0msKWc0OYdi_4XDa6lHFn63GN0CTE2qDhqMQk_gTWFwSlbBHm87bLBUgBbNKVZX13SKudWNgntoTWEPSC7oN2L3-A-Enm8jwksH06tbykcO5WdBCpIEmMSKKKqIhDoavRF/s1600/151-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
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“are you really a cowboy?” sal asked hal.
<p>
“naw, that’s just her little joke. i was a football player back then - for florida state.”
<p>
“oh.” sal did not look impressed.
<p>
“yeah, in tallahassee,” rosie said. “the dump of dumps. the only place in america where you can get eaten by an alligator. like you were in the jungle or mars or someplace uncivilized.”
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<br>
“so what were you doing in tallahassee?” jenny asked rosie.
<p>
“looking for ways to get out of it before i got eaten by an alligator. like we all were, right, sport?”
<p>
“nobody stays in one place forever,” hal replied. brenda was gone, and he had had enough of rosie, so when he finished his pie he was going to head for his room.
<p>
“but you were the guy who was going places, if i remember rightly,” rosie persisted. “always with the big plans. hey, remember old mrs wadcaller?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzzJmavirTr0JvNsGrfBS9nVMZIII0oVxa4Pnidg_PYa4wLlZirYKOxg-xLH6cNOM3v3XRHLIiLu325bL4Elt_gGW-ATto1cvrWlzkoGaWOOiQJCtf_VL-m-XhyphenhyphenM33_J2KRB5F0Jc8S57/s1600/151-games-n-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtzzJmavirTr0JvNsGrfBS9nVMZIII0oVxa4Pnidg_PYa4wLlZirYKOxg-xLH6cNOM3v3XRHLIiLu325bL4Elt_gGW-ATto1cvrWlzkoGaWOOiQJCtf_VL-m-XhyphenhyphenM33_J2KRB5F0Jc8S57/s1600/151-games-n-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“who?” hal asked.
<p>
“old mrs wadcaller! at the old wadcaller place about ten miles outside town, in the middle of the swamp. you of all people got to remember.” rosie turned to sal and jenny. “there was this big old house out in the swamp, and this crazy old lady lived there alone and there was talk she had millions buried there. ha, ha! and there were always some fools thinking up ways to find it. ain’t that right, cowboy?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqZk1fcIYC8ggYZtyXaJlg61oIkZyObjVrTSPdA1oVsA0WRZwfkmOhnQ8d7lWHbHUKevbjejC9Uk5NUHuEyHKJkTYvslzuH1hqg7pdx1DHSLR2nQt-hg4K6cpVpTMhow5po4xrvV3QzRx/s1600/151-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqZk1fcIYC8ggYZtyXaJlg61oIkZyObjVrTSPdA1oVsA0WRZwfkmOhnQ8d7lWHbHUKevbjejC9Uk5NUHuEyHKJkTYvslzuH1hqg7pdx1DHSLR2nQt-hg4K6cpVpTMhow5po4xrvV3QzRx/s1600/151-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i never really believed it,” said hal. “if we went out there it was just for a gag.”
<p>
“that’s not how i remember it,” said rosie. “that’s not how i remember it at all, ha, ha!”
<p>
“there’s a place like that outside every town in the u s a ,” said sal, as she grabbed another forkful of pie.
<p>
“that’s right,” said jenny. “we got one right here. the old morris place. they say people have been talking about old mrs morris and her millions for thirty years but nothing ever comes of it.”
<p>
“ exactly,” rosie agreed. suddenly her mouth flew open like a country well and she stared at hal -
<p>
“hey, you don’t suppose - ha ha ha !…..”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithQusHtFEZmdQqe71hC6jf-akMrmtWEfrIx6GUuVFk3oEHeczKZFOmbMNk2SxVBhZ_DeoSqsiriTdOQTRTlo1NP5pHwDSziLoXuDzOqndhSVXJ1WxZz4Jgh-3qrX12Ed8QaomILPfgCI9/s1600/151-games-p.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithQusHtFEZmdQqe71hC6jf-akMrmtWEfrIx6GUuVFk3oEHeczKZFOmbMNk2SxVBhZ_DeoSqsiriTdOQTRTlo1NP5pHwDSziLoXuDzOqndhSVXJ1WxZz4Jgh-3qrX12Ed8QaomILPfgCI9/s1600/151-games-p.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/12/games-part-25.html"><font color = "red">part 25</font></a></center>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/PSNPpssruFY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-44897143646178793792016-12-07T06:41:00.000-08:002016-12-15T14:55:56.103-08:00games, part 23<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-22.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubjE1rkVsGoqDi1XS93iLs-ejg45qOD7lN4xdJs5b69AO5xxl1NFd5RTToUsvgc9kVFnkDQpm0NtOkORWUH2sLYUdUVHDyaGSDVW9xvjaIg7zeBoqsf3EtwvcAefkKOTWOXurERm0Y1Oy/s1600/150-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubjE1rkVsGoqDi1XS93iLs-ejg45qOD7lN4xdJs5b69AO5xxl1NFd5RTToUsvgc9kVFnkDQpm0NtOkORWUH2sLYUdUVHDyaGSDVW9xvjaIg7zeBoqsf3EtwvcAefkKOTWOXurERm0Y1Oy/s1600/150-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzN7gd3dGalFRpMy26dMaggsBy2DZd2d-WMpD8IrngQA0-jK25OTZn7Cpxvc3uCcmUH9rvw0sdGaMH6hUH8MHyhH0PcKxK2x-VSox9BaxdLPexZbwdaQzjwVLGQAD1xhR8vCVtbkSUEGg7/s1600/150-games-a-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzN7gd3dGalFRpMy26dMaggsBy2DZd2d-WMpD8IrngQA0-jK25OTZn7Cpxvc3uCcmUH9rvw0sdGaMH6hUH8MHyhH0PcKxK2x-VSox9BaxdLPexZbwdaQzjwVLGQAD1xhR8vCVtbkSUEGg7/s1600/150-games-a-alt.gif" /></a></div>
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<font color = "black"><b><i>“my name is garver, george garver. i understand you have my bride here. i’ve come to claim her.</i></b>”
<p>
edna hesitated. she kept the door open just enough that she could see the man and his angry face, without letting too much wind and rain in.
<p>
“do you mean, sir.” she finally asked, “a woman who is actually married to you? i don’t believe i know a mrs garver.”
<p>
as edna spoke, she suddenly felt a blast of cold wind at her back.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQB9PkAwGf4lotzM3vyNOFe_FSFx6xZK7sa2f5UkvPpzj2cuhR81es3ELpgUHZubFukfn-nyz_qjWkZGj1_Ryxpn7ADLigGVY6nOhTqAIQvDoQ8fa6_fBojoXiDXXPp4jNSLpYRRJrB5_Z/s1600/150-games-b-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQB9PkAwGf4lotzM3vyNOFe_FSFx6xZK7sa2f5UkvPpzj2cuhR81es3ELpgUHZubFukfn-nyz_qjWkZGj1_Ryxpn7ADLigGVY6nOhTqAIQvDoQ8fa6_fBojoXiDXXPp4jNSLpYRRJrB5_Z/s1600/150-games-b-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
followed by the sound of a window being slammed shut.
<p>
“what was that?” garver exclaimed.
<p>
“just the wind,” edna replied evenly. “as you can see, it is blowing rather fiercely.”
<p>
“don’t trifle with me, missus. i am wise to your sneaky ways. i know my bride is in here, and i mean to have her.”
<p>
“i hope you are not threatening me,sir.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbD6Lc7y3emxkMHPD0k85e2c6OvEfLTGsC0RWNj3l-IMn5JkxwCZpXzngpUpAk5GmtPSAl2KCMgZee54y3T2Q_VHYJid30kAt_Uu5Wpo3Yl7UmaYSxCUp1j_aoBAaPjK0ERba7QipQm4ud/s1600/150-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" "height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbD6Lc7y3emxkMHPD0k85e2c6OvEfLTGsC0RWNj3l-IMn5JkxwCZpXzngpUpAk5GmtPSAl2KCMgZee54y3T2Q_VHYJid30kAt_Uu5Wpo3Yl7UmaYSxCUp1j_aoBAaPjK0ERba7QipQm4ud/s1600/150-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“threatening you, missus?" garver laughed. "you mean laying a hand on you? oh, no, george garver is not such a fool as that. but i have the law on my side, and i mean to claim my rights. i know my rights, and i also know bill d. miller - you may have heard of him - the sharpest lawyer in the county. and between us, we know how to deal with folks who would deny me my rights.”
<p>
“yes, i am sure you do,sir.” edna started to close the door in garver’s face.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__uugDqJqGlLevG955SOyy0yTMxwqEKsS8YttCCGJR6JyG2HMHTSwR0FrUzfVHpTzhhn66JRnyEuGZeMRNM4LUnfJISbYTHxTn7VjvlNb7rnmUsLOn5EJQ7vjlgbApiMKdLtBT8ffwBkD/s1600/150-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__uugDqJqGlLevG955SOyy0yTMxwqEKsS8YttCCGJR6JyG2HMHTSwR0FrUzfVHpTzhhn66JRnyEuGZeMRNM4LUnfJISbYTHxTn7VjvlNb7rnmUsLOn5EJQ7vjlgbApiMKdLtBT8ffwBkD/s1600/150-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you will be hearing from me, missus! and from lawyer miller!” edna got the door closed.
<p>
she rushed back into the living room, but as she suspected, julie was gone. her coat was gone too.
<p>
a puddle of water under the window told the tale. julie had indeed escaped through the window.
<p>
was garver waiting outside? did he know, or suspect, that julie had left the house? would he search for her?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0eE4Bp4ooXnruCsz64fn16JMOv2UWDTkmP_LCOLsf3J-6KijZlqjIa6qsuZHQCE2ElAE0ydN1w4oYZH5CutqjoILCrPcjguv3tOmjH4MjnoJ0IJDui-Apn4acJDRKEZjCRJfPwkAaswz/s1600/150-games-e-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0eE4Bp4ooXnruCsz64fn16JMOv2UWDTkmP_LCOLsf3J-6KijZlqjIa6qsuZHQCE2ElAE0ydN1w4oYZH5CutqjoILCrPcjguv3tOmjH4MjnoJ0IJDui-Apn4acJDRKEZjCRJfPwkAaswz/s1600/150-games-e-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
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edna hurried back to the living room. she pressed her face to the glass of the window.
<p>
she did not see a car outside, but it was hard to tell for sure n the darkness and rain.
<p>
she opened the front door a crack. she saw no sign of garver or a car. she did see a set of red taillights heading down the street, back towards the town.
<p>
she hurriedly got her hat and coat and purse and went out to her own car.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YI0VPqJPqFsfBqwfD-iXOmGVhyphenhyphenQyiaPNYibgh-eFKyCk7MgBJ92FZM7fB_t1OkMiiBneunMRM6mNtFvCvHNsFKl6JU6FdOQc-NqS6JndL97Qh90k6Sl4dkGQYI1R0rdTas2TjalR9NEg/s1600/150-games-f-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YI0VPqJPqFsfBqwfD-iXOmGVhyphenhyphenQyiaPNYibgh-eFKyCk7MgBJ92FZM7fB_t1OkMiiBneunMRM6mNtFvCvHNsFKl6JU6FdOQc-NqS6JndL97Qh90k6Sl4dkGQYI1R0rdTas2TjalR9NEg/s1600/150-games-f-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
julie ran.
<p>
there was a house behind edna’s, separated from it by a few scrubby hedges, but no fence or wall.
<p>
julie ran between two of the hedges and across the neighbor’s lawn into a dark street.
<p>
there was another house across the street from the neighbor’s. there was a light on, but being seen, in the storm, was not something she was going to worry about.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbhDr35Td4jGTgfXTZoxMCiJTxW-CxlZPKoKPGkj3czyoN1_OE5No-Y65OdthC0dlnVSPdJKbEyqsNfOmZt_vJeGdNI-N0tVC2UbENBkRKyH2RMMW1C8ixdBw5S-6SmNinToHT5nLKX8P/s1600/150-games-g-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbhDr35Td4jGTgfXTZoxMCiJTxW-CxlZPKoKPGkj3czyoN1_OE5No-Y65OdthC0dlnVSPdJKbEyqsNfOmZt_vJeGdNI-N0tVC2UbENBkRKyH2RMMW1C8ixdBw5S-6SmNinToHT5nLKX8P/s1600/150-games-g-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she ran across the lawn of the house with the light on. there was a fence, separating it from another house - this one completely dark. the fence was not very high. julie got over it, but slipped and landed flat on her face in mud.
<p>
she got up quickly and ran across the lawn of the darkened house into yet another street.
<p>
she was now two blocks away from edna’s house. it had only taken a few minutes.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7n3PI4mU3jBN4So_dYffNIqycerlItbVXnprppXaieG9Nx6niev-nmWS_jiDCZnpdzmLaUbS7elHgudnA-EYVGt9i5AHVNWeZaXgI4aYm4E47qRE_1XpJnNWT40vD_uWUIyrK0orA6Lm/s1600/150-games-h.-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7n3PI4mU3jBN4So_dYffNIqycerlItbVXnprppXaieG9Nx6niev-nmWS_jiDCZnpdzmLaUbS7elHgudnA-EYVGt9i5AHVNWeZaXgI4aYm4E47qRE_1XpJnNWT40vD_uWUIyrK0orA6Lm/s1600/150-games-h.-soft.gif" /></a></div>
julie stopped to catch her breath. she looked around.
<p>
most of the street she was now on was dark. but there was a big house at one end of it that was all lit up.
<p>
every window in it was lit up brightly. yellow light streamed out into the driving rain.
<p>
julie stared at it, mesmerized.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDnWPGzxcrPpQTqAcb-SW52gCAaHhUyBg4DcR7qZeoNMihhknKXJomdQn3XJ4mCdau3HaL02gDHvO8OHv5NRRyHyIKIn4fC1SRmvEyS-R_ZUWfsQeAgQtLRY84ZjmBKr26IFls4m2T5aE/s1600/150-games-i-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDnWPGzxcrPpQTqAcb-SW52gCAaHhUyBg4DcR7qZeoNMihhknKXJomdQn3XJ4mCdau3HaL02gDHvO8OHv5NRRyHyIKIn4fC1SRmvEyS-R_ZUWfsQeAgQtLRY84ZjmBKr26IFls4m2T5aE/s1600/150-games-i-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
when bob had gotten off the deserted road and seen some signs of human habitation, he , too, had seen the brightly lit up house.
<p>
somebody must be having a party, he thought. they must be filled with good cheer.
<p>
surely they would take in a wet and weary traveler.
<p>
and even if they didn’t, maybe somehow he could sneak in, and not be noticed in the crowd!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUSmcXVzRXHw3BXxEfO6GJld5hy76zYhTOOSBMl6ayuNOMxjOgJna9_UJ3Z8Khu-axup8yLx1eVcakwdNs_TRyBNodiaCMsPWvLk3Zgy0YoFqhWUqXod_jUhLKvdmnEu4pDhp7Xm8Oo-l/s1600/150-games-j-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUSmcXVzRXHw3BXxEfO6GJld5hy76zYhTOOSBMl6ayuNOMxjOgJna9_UJ3Z8Khu-axup8yLx1eVcakwdNs_TRyBNodiaCMsPWvLk3Zgy0YoFqhWUqXod_jUhLKvdmnEu4pDhp7Xm8Oo-l/s1600/150-games-j-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he approached the house.
<p>
strangely, despite being all it up, there were no sounds coming from it - of revelry or partying or anything else.
<p>
and although it was a big house, bigger than any of its neighbors, it was actually pretty shabby and run down. a couple of the shutters were hanging crooked on their hinges.
<p>
as he stared at the house, bob felt someone behind him.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOBv5n_OC77b06eWt8yWR04qy8uXpFnQif8e520Y_ASA8g5Uu-teGYKJJmyu1qCw0eg8YyhC4N12Kit85H4DQX3qagzVPzDo3RnLVXM5tkUpmXgneEaDuh-DSgW7BTENEMt7E0vN8JRE6/s1600/150-games-k-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOOBv5n_OC77b06eWt8yWR04qy8uXpFnQif8e520Y_ASA8g5Uu-teGYKJJmyu1qCw0eg8YyhC4N12Kit85H4DQX3qagzVPzDo3RnLVXM5tkUpmXgneEaDuh-DSgW7BTENEMt7E0vN8JRE6/s1600/150-games-k-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he turned. it was a girl, young, maybe just a teenager.
<p>
she was almost as wet as he was. her clothes were covered with mud, but the rain seemed to be washing mud off her face. she had no hat, and the rain was plastering her hair to the sides of her face.
<p>
she ignored bob, or maybe did not see him, and looked up at the house.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOS-yTk0fz1HUOlVoxkt3wl_ND4jKYOKqQqmc2nRLE4yPsE5vlyM1Vr8pyqKt4TwWQZlBQhARirQ0SJluJrHbuEbiCfksOZXo6fH-eXCxVFUPTqMmH-n1sdwtmAeE3ESfwg_hnoUdnLTGh/s1600/150-games-l-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOS-yTk0fz1HUOlVoxkt3wl_ND4jKYOKqQqmc2nRLE4yPsE5vlyM1Vr8pyqKt4TwWQZlBQhARirQ0SJluJrHbuEbiCfksOZXo6fH-eXCxVFUPTqMmH-n1sdwtmAeE3ESfwg_hnoUdnLTGh/s1600/150-games-l-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“looks like someone is having a party,” bob said.
<p>
“a party?” the girl answered. “i don’t hear anything.”
<p>
“you aren’t wearing s hat,” bob said.
<p>
“what?” the girl looked at bob.
<p>
“you aren’t wearing a hat,” bob said, “just like me. a guy with no hat, a girl with no hat. standing here in the rain. it makes you stop and think.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ONKi6ReX5MrWJ3Tg2b1kb4rX9cOqpHYIfOWLObqj8QdrtK2il2XbsAE85JolA-igBCPrvhHWrhGIUkZf82fGY4Su7MFcz7nfXIsk74-3BSO2RaYEjzb21fS2Dea6Dza3VStEGd1l-Ts5/s1600/150-games-m-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ONKi6ReX5MrWJ3Tg2b1kb4rX9cOqpHYIfOWLObqj8QdrtK2il2XbsAE85JolA-igBCPrvhHWrhGIUkZf82fGY4Su7MFcz7nfXIsk74-3BSO2RaYEjzb21fS2Dea6Dza3VStEGd1l-Ts5/s1600/150-games-m-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“there has to be somebody in there,” julie said. “maybe they will let us in.”
<p>
“maybe,” bob agreed. “let’s find out.”
<p>
bob felt that he had been waiting for this moment all his life, that his destiny was about to be fulfilled.
<p>
julie’s mind was a blank.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/12/games-part-24.html"><font color = "red">part 24</font></a></center>
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</br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Vc8D46tJuFM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br?rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-65807216666907014802016-11-29T09:53:00.000-08:002016-12-07T06:42:46.354-08:00games, part 22<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-21.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<br>
<font color = "black">jenny opened the cellar door.
<p>
she listened for a few seconds, but she could not hear rosie and her friend - what was her name? sally? - talking.
<p>
maybe they were asleep. not that it mattered now,
<p>
jenny pulled the cord on the overhead bulb and started down the stairs.
<p>
the friend was asleep, curled up on a rug.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOKqOzj9oK8-mY-7QMd8FYSqdQkVriWhl7TIPEvjjXf8GQ9vnIGkng1vkyouQ1XAtdqOENlnsZv-FpCMMch7zlRqdXXyTx8TIQ-VxmK5KJ5x0U1iKJsm0NjDcChnSYdQxscFrHwnpVh26/s1600/149-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimOKqOzj9oK8-mY-7QMd8FYSqdQkVriWhl7TIPEvjjXf8GQ9vnIGkng1vkyouQ1XAtdqOENlnsZv-FpCMMch7zlRqdXXyTx8TIQ-VxmK5KJ5x0U1iKJsm0NjDcChnSYdQxscFrHwnpVh26/s1600/149-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
rosie was awake, leaning against the wall beside the furnace. she looked up when jenny approached her.
<p>
“what’s up?” rosie asked. she seemed kind of subdued, which was good.
<p>
“brenda knows you are down here. i didn't tell her, she must have heard you.”
<p>
“oh.” rosie just shrugged. “well, kid, you tried, and i appreciate it. “
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVV1Qupn3zXiqs1ZhM97cp2zBMFH6cHEvCjeHgZhjAtUNHwtKVJKOmzbR9-XhTm8COyLab2besaEmRNK9xTrAvtuJNCjCMJhzxLUxcpO2cKkP8JxRC6sX3yGc947wMsjLWqql_0TvRTnpV/s1600/149-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVV1Qupn3zXiqs1ZhM97cp2zBMFH6cHEvCjeHgZhjAtUNHwtKVJKOmzbR9-XhTm8COyLab2besaEmRNK9xTrAvtuJNCjCMJhzxLUxcpO2cKkP8JxRC6sX3yGc947wMsjLWqql_0TvRTnpV/s1600/149-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“but you can stay - for the night anyway, or maybe until the storm is over.”
<p>
“oh? that’s nice.” rosie stretched and yawned,
<p>
“brenda says you can come upstairs, she says you can make yourselves useful - whatever that means.”
<p>
rosie laughed. “what does it mean?”
<p>
“i don’t know, but you should at least get a slice of pie out of it.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQtKOM4HZKswtG_z225glOub3PehN2j3UAdKfF9QiGzPNt13hUzpbrljngTD3Q-ou258XElf0HEM53eYny_D8hlm0pib4aw6uRtNj1lxggCsDql0mBin2SL4MINaJKZT-v5KGPB0UFQH5/s1600/149-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZQtKOM4HZKswtG_z225glOub3PehN2j3UAdKfF9QiGzPNt13hUzpbrljngTD3Q-ou258XElf0HEM53eYny_D8hlm0pib4aw6uRtNj1lxggCsDql0mBin2SL4MINaJKZT-v5KGPB0UFQH5/s1600/149-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“that sounds good.” rosie got to her feet. “and maybe a smoke? i could really use a smoke.”
<p>
“you’ll have to ask brenda,” jenny told her.
<p>
rosie looked down at the sleeping sal. “i’d leave her down here but we would probably forget all about her.” she gave her a kick.
<p>
“come on, sleeping beauty. we have to earn our keep. for once in your life.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_avRMrx5g0f4-Ywgl6LLS6Ag15IrxqM9Nhy7OaK-MUu-8Yo21HPEtCE01dN32y2QV4kBu-6tAtD7ubGGY1fHH9ZDLOsxm_meJvNP7p6GCcefEnAcunqeLoh3mcuTzcI9zfoGJiypnp7cA/s1600/149-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_avRMrx5g0f4-Ywgl6LLS6Ag15IrxqM9Nhy7OaK-MUu-8Yo21HPEtCE01dN32y2QV4kBu-6tAtD7ubGGY1fHH9ZDLOsxm_meJvNP7p6GCcefEnAcunqeLoh3mcuTzcI9zfoGJiypnp7cA/s1600/149-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
hal sat in the darkened parlor, listening to the wind and feeling bad about how unfair life was, and how he could never catch a break.
<p>
he had turned the radio off, because he could not really hear it over the roar of the wind and rain.
<p>
he decided to smoke one more cigarette and then find his room and turn in.
<p>
as he was lighting up, he heard someone behind him in the kitchen.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxsExoki5uSdB5TgcB3HA_4dLaimh3qSntjX0LFaHT_KxflhyphenhyphenfYI-5vK0tpToE_asBCiGIjS-8JduGLnGWa4kddRT6agJy8WH1GWaop58FQkERpRO_g38SKZu_3QN7CPQlTL9_zXBzIK6j/s1600/149-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxsExoki5uSdB5TgcB3HA_4dLaimh3qSntjX0LFaHT_KxflhyphenhyphenfYI-5vK0tpToE_asBCiGIjS-8JduGLnGWa4kddRT6agJy8WH1GWaop58FQkERpRO_g38SKZu_3QN7CPQlTL9_zXBzIK6j/s1600/149-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the landlady had said she was going to bed. hal got up and looked behind him.
<p>
then the light in the kitchen went on, and hal entered it.
<p>
brenda was there. she had some blankets and some other stuff in her arms and was putting them - candles, a couple of flashlights - on the kitchen table.
<p>
“i thought you were going to bed, ” hal said.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_97meXSjRQ6xXWMVm4gldkAayGLwrHGDufAbTycP-IbnELnQ-RP1ptoLPGbl3wnqbhq8r5dcUOfk7itk32iBSYreJFsIEQJEAJe0dtYoJtiMpOEJZZXWsXcqPWuHu-1VdAhp2AdFSEep/s1600/149-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk_97meXSjRQ6xXWMVm4gldkAayGLwrHGDufAbTycP-IbnELnQ-RP1ptoLPGbl3wnqbhq8r5dcUOfk7itk32iBSYreJFsIEQJEAJe0dtYoJtiMpOEJZZXWsXcqPWuHu-1VdAhp2AdFSEep/s1600/149-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i was,” said brenda,” but with the way this storm is going i thought i would get some things together, just in case.”
<p>
“just in case - just in case what?”
<p>
“just in case the lights go out or the windows get blown in. just a precaution.”
<p>
“that doesn’t sound very reassuring.”
<p>
“just being on the safe side.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5b06jT3pTAzH55bbxX6VLx0jsfefUfn-ylaPjlUSwf20d_jDeqL7Q5L4LJaxMsf24P9XklHcg1Hf3BLfMje7x0ixKCfCsxuOJXKL9Q0ZXyyfWgvOI5aRfK_i_fa-B5C55engl98Yjuo1o/s1600/149-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5b06jT3pTAzH55bbxX6VLx0jsfefUfn-ylaPjlUSwf20d_jDeqL7Q5L4LJaxMsf24P9XklHcg1Hf3BLfMje7x0ixKCfCsxuOJXKL9Q0ZXyyfWgvOI5aRfK_i_fa-B5C55engl98Yjuo1o/s1600/149-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“jeez,” hal whined, “the whole point of stopping here was because we thought we would be safe, now you are telling me we are all going to get blown away anyway?”
<p>
“i can’t control the wind. i tell you what, crybaby, if we all get blown away i will give you your money back, how’s that? as we are flying through the air i will throw you your money and you can see if you can catch it,”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMnKTTE6OZXp6YigP1S544ZMtY6OEHuF9Kok27bM-7RaPckynk51QEFyPb5XmGHqUHhh_yZaGgc0ejzXvvASGqEVWoIF4K2JbyIBaCMplC7EFTi9oIdE7quSf8EwUPeMAZ_uXAiAs0IAQ/s1600/149-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMnKTTE6OZXp6YigP1S544ZMtY6OEHuF9Kok27bM-7RaPckynk51QEFyPb5XmGHqUHhh_yZaGgc0ejzXvvASGqEVWoIF4K2JbyIBaCMplC7EFTi9oIdE7quSf8EwUPeMAZ_uXAiAs0IAQ/s1600/149-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
hal was trying to think of something smart to say, when the door behind brenda opened and jenny came in, followed by rosie and then by a stumbling sal, rubbing her eyes.
<p>
hal looked past jenny and saw rosie.
<p>
rosie looked up and saw hal.
<p>
“you!” hal exclaimed.
<p>
“you!” rosie gasped.
<p>
the two of them stared at each other. brenda, jenny, and sal looked at them curiously.
<p>
finally rosie spoke. “you got a smoke?” she asked hal.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigAE_IQlNVbegomLaX2U387nmoAo6mYI1ENJLeiIoWi8dtdvmAFHwqNDGnzoENx0WVAtbadoUKQ2QiMZERIbQfNuh9q7jsBkhnzjN4mgDTitVJ1vacvCIkiJqIVcDibxWylYV3nO8cA-B_/s1600/149-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigAE_IQlNVbegomLaX2U387nmoAo6mYI1ENJLeiIoWi8dtdvmAFHwqNDGnzoENx0WVAtbadoUKQ2QiMZERIbQfNuh9q7jsBkhnzjN4mgDTitVJ1vacvCIkiJqIVcDibxWylYV3nO8cA-B_/s1600/149-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdJP1Zi4_Oor11FHNYpjqaXCoJdWd2jOfIO4l_3LE9V3F62-qKdySgD89HvvxGWIzTgxCHLX1jVmamdIY6OcM1eIYC5WNODNcIr4rw3pEjp2gSKf2tkxCVWT3R1FvtVKP08zqEcSdRcGt/s1600/149-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdJP1Zi4_Oor11FHNYpjqaXCoJdWd2jOfIO4l_3LE9V3F62-qKdySgD89HvvxGWIzTgxCHLX1jVmamdIY6OcM1eIYC5WNODNcIr4rw3pEjp2gSKf2tkxCVWT3R1FvtVKP08zqEcSdRcGt/s1600/149-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<i>“who’s that?” julie asked. “were you expecting somebody?”
<p>
“no,” edna answered. “it must be some poor traveler, seeking shelter from the storm.”</i>
<p>
edna got up and went to the door. she opened it cautiously, and had to hold on tight to keep the wind from knocking it back into her and knocking her down.
<p>
a man stood in the doorway. a thin, middle aged man dressed in heavy rain gear, including plastic covering on his fedora.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGMWLXmydWfLEcJYfAPtBgkXw5G7hpxvm4OIDqDzZow7gSLZ8z55JQAmA1B5zSNNq743KUQ8UpX_sbWmQPuDQYM210ZWt9tjkujiuBuIb_9Cqmb7t5Jlv1nUBNKkV7PRYwrqoSFt_6xEe/s1600/149-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGMWLXmydWfLEcJYfAPtBgkXw5G7hpxvm4OIDqDzZow7gSLZ8z55JQAmA1B5zSNNq743KUQ8UpX_sbWmQPuDQYM210ZWt9tjkujiuBuIb_9Cqmb7t5Jlv1nUBNKkV7PRYwrqoSFt_6xEe/s1600/149-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
from under the plastic-covered hat, edna could barely see his face.
<p>
working all her years in the bus station, edna had seen her share of mean and nasty faces, but she thought this might be the meanest and nastiest she had ever seen. not the most dangerous looking - not by a long shot - but just the most purely mean and nasty.
<p>
“can i help you?” edna asked the man.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZamrTfsYVFQCdSBManTwCLdyXGGDyVZZSHxTWXgD3oxEaUeqhAOQrdEAnRsDO1p9jljVqtarNg8k6xEOuYs8wvC0JQX8ifQL-gpkHN8oMyT6v4ACA3iXLdxCL2CIuHlUNT1I7vAoCp5C/s1600/149-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZamrTfsYVFQCdSBManTwCLdyXGGDyVZZSHxTWXgD3oxEaUeqhAOQrdEAnRsDO1p9jljVqtarNg8k6xEOuYs8wvC0JQX8ifQL-gpkHN8oMyT6v4ACA3iXLdxCL2CIuHlUNT1I7vAoCp5C/s1600/149-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“are you the lady that works at the bus station?” he asked.
<p>
“i work at the bus station, i am <i>a</i> lady that works at the bus station. and who might you be?”
<p>
“my name is garver, george garver. i believe you have <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games-part-2.html"><font color = "red""> my bride</font></a> here. i’ve come to claim her.”</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/12/games-part-23.html"><font color = "red">part 23</font></a></center>
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</br>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2ymo6IRxvlI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-82007970059892125012016-11-21T10:53:00.000-08:002016-11-29T09:54:34.430-08:00games, part 21<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-20.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJstE5xhFy0r19BKeVDjP3g2WPQsGkVIfiaoxNIT9ZVzD4Tz9_O1vOQlI22Ekz9t2AtC2O8TDsRSW_k5AP3itO6MKxUQoH7HKklxksQnaRyczzJ9QG3gziy6ApRwlP0hpFxTBaotNrJP9/s1600/148-games-a-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJstE5xhFy0r19BKeVDjP3g2WPQsGkVIfiaoxNIT9ZVzD4Tz9_O1vOQlI22Ekz9t2AtC2O8TDsRSW_k5AP3itO6MKxUQoH7HKklxksQnaRyczzJ9QG3gziy6ApRwlP0hpFxTBaotNrJP9/s1600/148-games-a-soft.gif" /></a></div>
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<font color = "black">the professor tried to get up.
<p>
he was covered with mud. his glasses were covered with mud and he lifted his face to the rain to try to to get the glasses washed off.
<p>
he still could barely see anything, but he could see, dimly, the lights in the house.
<p>
the mud seemed to be pulling him down like a living, vengeful thing.
<p>
was this the end of all his dreams, all his mad dreams of love and fame and glory….
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHRqk9zSGgwt0N-6113UszqXAJAmElvYzdxCiOTFK9t6Od4rVgXZxmOH4lV5_UP8eq9tmprewpx2Rei22tCvGwbVaCuFgF3uJWok2fRtR9cmW6yI-2vif5kLyqBQdUDxmKaDc5z7SUXFI/s1600/148-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHRqk9zSGgwt0N-6113UszqXAJAmElvYzdxCiOTFK9t6Od4rVgXZxmOH4lV5_UP8eq9tmprewpx2Rei22tCvGwbVaCuFgF3uJWok2fRtR9cmW6yI-2vif5kLyqBQdUDxmKaDc5z7SUXFI/s1600/148-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
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with a superhuman effort he got to his feet and staggered to the house… the empty house, now that the old woman and the handyman were dead, and the hitchhiker bob had taken to his cowardly heels…
<p>
suddenly it hit him. did he really know the house was empty? it was a big house, there could be servants, there could be anybody in it. just because there were no lights on, there could be people in there sleeping…
<p>
or watching him from the windows…
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3GVqey6SNyM8XZrCFcA4qGj6wmsifZ51OEcdbD3tpmVo55I6m-yqB6npLKuwKShwQeQpo_ELcBtpyeajrY3AQmobu85dok5_-HcL0LmN1gW2rWu4NvxMtTXOa7tW6bNVu0Dsx0y7Cxv/s1600/148-games-c-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLH3GVqey6SNyM8XZrCFcA4qGj6wmsifZ51OEcdbD3tpmVo55I6m-yqB6npLKuwKShwQeQpo_ELcBtpyeajrY3AQmobu85dok5_-HcL0LmN1gW2rWu4NvxMtTXOa7tW6bNVu0Dsx0y7Cxv/s1600/148-games-c-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
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but he didn’t care. all he wanted was to get inside, to get cleaned up and dried off and warm…
<p>
if someone was in there and they found him and they called the police and they took him back to the nuthouse or to prison or they hanged him for killing the old lady and the handyman even though he didn’t really do it…
<p>
or if they found out about the time back in oklahoma city, or what happened in flagstaff arizona…
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNtKaUhLhyphenhyphenjDS6hN1SteBe98jF0wZVJa8KgwtIi7szQZi0efQQGWfSqe_izyp5Z1iW18gg2m9wYMLdLniCh_5a1xpxrw2SGh6qKQVgPs_6s3aW05F6e_7-L2J3ntP8Ri8xT-VSPn_D3n2/s1600/148-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNtKaUhLhyphenhyphenjDS6hN1SteBe98jF0wZVJa8KgwtIi7szQZi0efQQGWfSqe_izyp5Z1iW18gg2m9wYMLdLniCh_5a1xpxrw2SGh6qKQVgPs_6s3aW05F6e_7-L2J3ntP8Ri8xT-VSPn_D3n2/s1600/148-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
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he didn’t care.
<p>
he just didn’t care.
<p>
he made it into the house.
<p>
it was a struggle, but he managed to close the door behind him.
<p>
ahhh… the warmth… he could still hear the wind, but it was no longer beating right on him.
<p>
at this point, the professor had forgotten all about the money in the cellar.
<p>
he began crawling up the stairs, in search of a shower and some clothes.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6pgSGCx9Vzkyka3Z03tSu0MYF9IeSx-1tQ_GbIVxz5BILgLGYXhQAXhr-3xUOdhr7zjFePOk1fZ5eRdILGZ9mzcnDmua_L2EkBNPWgX3f5iedZUbtyMP1VQ9d62CqaF9DC9h5kA9ViLF/s1600/148-games-e-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn6pgSGCx9Vzkyka3Z03tSu0MYF9IeSx-1tQ_GbIVxz5BILgLGYXhQAXhr-3xUOdhr7zjFePOk1fZ5eRdILGZ9mzcnDmua_L2EkBNPWgX3f5iedZUbtyMP1VQ9d62CqaF9DC9h5kA9ViLF/s1600/148-games-e-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob headed down the road.
<p>
at first he was happy to put the old house and the professor and the two bodies behind him.
<p>
he had gotten wet before.
<p>
and somebody always came along to give him a ride.
<p>
but as he walked along he was getting wetter than he ever had been before. his clothes were so soaked through and stuck to his skin it was like he did not even have any clothes on.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1WaXeGPQc7ZSD38Cn65UVuPk4tzAozR7gimqrRQ43kTzY6eZT70FK362ZIt1MBMtH_f32Dc8m9rrlOxhD6KNYfj2yoVcFj5gX3eY7X450Ab-tftRQvZe_dF7oBtMVmINLAy94oWGMjJd/s1600/148-games-f-alt-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1WaXeGPQc7ZSD38Cn65UVuPk4tzAozR7gimqrRQ43kTzY6eZT70FK362ZIt1MBMtH_f32Dc8m9rrlOxhD6KNYfj2yoVcFj5gX3eY7X450Ab-tftRQvZe_dF7oBtMVmINLAy94oWGMjJd/s1600/148-games-f-alt-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
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and the wind actually knocked him over a few times. not by surprise, when he was actually bracing himself against it.
<p>
how he wished he had a hat! losing his hat - that was what had started this whole mess to begin with!
<p>
and there were no cars on the road - none at all.
<p>
as bob walked along he forgot all about the professor and the old house and the two unfortunate humans who had met their untimely ends.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEvaBpFx_Tc3_mgNx0O8eWkXb1LxoHWbf_dlsjCAu-co7SlFyk9Cq-7ItMJtA59iPvkdoTcDldvoClOI3XPY6HACQaGda1WPP_5sgMQL9FYnUb2-40HA77ZrkZYkzxP2dK6wBEv5_A_Xt/s1600/148-games-g-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEvaBpFx_Tc3_mgNx0O8eWkXb1LxoHWbf_dlsjCAu-co7SlFyk9Cq-7ItMJtA59iPvkdoTcDldvoClOI3XPY6HACQaGda1WPP_5sgMQL9FYnUb2-40HA77ZrkZYkzxP2dK6wBEv5_A_Xt/s1600/148-games-g-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the road was dark and empty. he knew he would come to a town and some houses eventually.
<p>
he always had.
<p>
he decided to knock on the door of the first house he saw that had a light on.
<p>
someone in this great land of ours, bob thought, must give a poor traveler shelter from the storm.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_jgdULGZrgbajv2R0T5liHvzBh3u6DLoB4OLiNlfSOHHXY57EyiXYTKofdPg9t5sxNahn8GUORjNL11V-_kenFnpdZ0r3c9uHhnaQoW8Ryc5ef6k1WsPzLRR_IpU2LV1qjwOaswRCFUh/s1600/148-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_jgdULGZrgbajv2R0T5liHvzBh3u6DLoB4OLiNlfSOHHXY57EyiXYTKofdPg9t5sxNahn8GUORjNL11V-_kenFnpdZ0r3c9uHhnaQoW8Ryc5ef6k1WsPzLRR_IpU2LV1qjwOaswRCFUh/s1600/148-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
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“this great land of ours” was a phrase bob had heard once on the radio, from president franklin d roosevelt or some other windbag, and it had stuck in his mind and floated to its surface every so often.
<p>
surely someone in this great land of ours would be willing to give a poor traveler shelter from the storm…
<p>
<center>* </center>
<p>
edna sipped her ginger ale and listened attentively as julie continued her description of the best selling novel she planned on writing.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBz7RwD709AroVSawTjQ3nz4LG3Gk7_M0i_vmrnanQ0tTTbSzQW9WJLAgRt7VrfxCO_wOUvlVBJfLEvqHu698EspHHrECyBzbHhuDkXHT_ShxLWTx-tnXHms70Sse7KZDyRVESeYRaQse0/s1600/148-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBz7RwD709AroVSawTjQ3nz4LG3Gk7_M0i_vmrnanQ0tTTbSzQW9WJLAgRt7VrfxCO_wOUvlVBJfLEvqHu698EspHHrECyBzbHhuDkXHT_ShxLWTx-tnXHms70Sse7KZDyRVESeYRaQse0/s1600/148-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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the wind and rain were howling outside, but they were as snug as two bugs in a hundred dollar persian rug.
<p>
“yolina is often stopped in the street by other girls and women in the women’s city and told how beautiful she is and that she should enter the annual competition to be queen of the city.
<p>
if she were elected queen of the city, or even one of the queen’s seven handmaidens, then she could stay in the women’s city and not have to marry a bullfighter or a cowboy or a deep-sea diver and spend her life baking pies and cakes and cookies.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-ApS9tPo1kYMPXNPSQw7o6AEj_Pv3Fmpkle2AXR3z5Lzv4LXA8sAj6nZnIGfMHE2RtzIcxuDFqhcEbQCR3EqDVTAUXausHMhyKR1IcyPz5aZinwFr7YcScfObLo2wqZTD3xFan8LAYbi/s1600/148-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-ApS9tPo1kYMPXNPSQw7o6AEj_Pv3Fmpkle2AXR3z5Lzv4LXA8sAj6nZnIGfMHE2RtzIcxuDFqhcEbQCR3EqDVTAUXausHMhyKR1IcyPz5aZinwFr7YcScfObLo2wqZTD3xFan8LAYbi/s1600/148-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
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all the girls and women who stop yolina in the street say the same thing - that if she could only get rid of the blue bullet hole looking birthmark on her forehead she could be queen forever or at least for a few years until she starts to lose her looks…”
<p>
edna wondered how all the women continued to live in the women’s city if they were all married to the bullfighters, etc, but she took another sip of ginger ale and did not interrupt julie.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7a9EHcKA998fW-ncYPivRi3tjcOLa0awjbu6tpX0_o2Ju38Q5moLpOXOqJMmZk_vykoEp_TILsVb7fik7uG2Q_YmYlMjnrB7ZNLTW-Hhh-NS-1xtQeXipuXlaX8YH1tkfZTZJAbzJq_J0/s1600/148-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7a9EHcKA998fW-ncYPivRi3tjcOLa0awjbu6tpX0_o2Ju38Q5moLpOXOqJMmZk_vykoEp_TILsVb7fik7uG2Q_YmYlMjnrB7ZNLTW-Hhh-NS-1xtQeXipuXlaX8YH1tkfZTZJAbzJq_J0/s1600/148-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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julie continued, “and yolina smiles politely but does not tell them the story behind the blue birthmark. one day when yolina was thirteen years old she had come home and found a mysterious letter addressed to herself. her mother was not home and the letter was lying on the floor in front of the mail slot…”
<p>
suddenly julie’s recital was interrupted by a pounding on the door. at first edna and julie could hardly hear it over the howling of the wind, but when julie fell silent, they realized it was indeed someone at the door.
<p>
“who’s that?” julie asked. “were you expecting somebody?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B8Qb0Y5ilmSKct3-amjUGOZjDo8zZRvm20wAiEHeLCrglsq5vyjnIwjunBL60dJYrfhlHnd5eLe-kVbQO3f8OdkLIxzZjY48Njg2A-rVWZ7QLzYBEeTLLKPb26Wrawa8SAwhv1T-LHUk/s1600/148-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B8Qb0Y5ilmSKct3-amjUGOZjDo8zZRvm20wAiEHeLCrglsq5vyjnIwjunBL60dJYrfhlHnd5eLe-kVbQO3f8OdkLIxzZjY48Njg2A-rVWZ7QLzYBEeTLLKPb26Wrawa8SAwhv1T-LHUk/s1600/148-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
“no,” edna answered. “it must be some poor traveler, seeking shelter from the storm.”</font>
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<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-22.html"><font color = "red">part 22</font></a></center>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/orM1yplEltI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
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rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-9094600742057954902016-11-10T13:20:00.001-08:002016-11-21T10:55:15.781-08:00games, part 20<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-19.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rq2ASUJciZWFehxRlL-NF07GSVbrCGNIy9KaJiZGqeciTGPnKjk8tAMfM83j4ZoNLpXPpNDZhN3_qgLwlDWrqPqmbxWjQZdVZ-77-oVVKlJ4rZqVuyRAr1MkH-Ku0oOpFRKyrl0YTOnl/s1600/147-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6rq2ASUJciZWFehxRlL-NF07GSVbrCGNIy9KaJiZGqeciTGPnKjk8tAMfM83j4ZoNLpXPpNDZhN3_qgLwlDWrqPqmbxWjQZdVZ-77-oVVKlJ4rZqVuyRAr1MkH-Ku0oOpFRKyrl0YTOnl/s1600/147-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><center><i><b> </b>“you’re all right?” the professor shouted at bob. “what about my car? what about - what about everything?”</i></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfxIPYN6Ohvs44206AtdGEqm_Mr8to2lskWpTrM29G8q8YYqiPbj1-0ijQdNKjv7T7FCqMKYgnolqPdBIcqpxRhWSkbjfyfjHfdP_Xw_Fx4lE-DDqyxvfzUKP2kDN6uE_H1M7bvNqH-xf/s1600/147-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWfxIPYN6Ohvs44206AtdGEqm_Mr8to2lskWpTrM29G8q8YYqiPbj1-0ijQdNKjv7T7FCqMKYgnolqPdBIcqpxRhWSkbjfyfjHfdP_Xw_Fx4lE-DDqyxvfzUKP2kDN6uE_H1M7bvNqH-xf/s1600/147-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
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bob stopped waving his arms, but kept coming up the hill.
<p>
he looked at the professor, and the professor looked at him.
<p>
they both lost track of time as they stood in the rain, thinking their thoughts.
<p>
“we better get out of here,” bob finally said. “before somebody comes along.”
<p>
“and sees those bodies.” he added when the professor made no reply.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiWZA-F2TeiEh7ziElY1D0nxhrh5JYOse4kDZpXJJljuzg5DM-uZmeD4HocafmBK2RAGRK1DaAm9FzTLeXcj30cdn9v6fHuGI-dNSXtvZM7ZqsPSpUF-hj8mBmB6R83sutWJxuMJ757B1-/s1600/147-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiWZA-F2TeiEh7ziElY1D0nxhrh5JYOse4kDZpXJJljuzg5DM-uZmeD4HocafmBK2RAGRK1DaAm9FzTLeXcj30cdn9v6fHuGI-dNSXtvZM7ZqsPSpUF-hj8mBmB6R83sutWJxuMJ757B1-/s1600/147-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“who is we?” the professor finally asked. “you killed them, i didn’t.”
<p>
“they were accidents,” said bob. “i didn’t even touch the guy, he just fell off the ladder.”
<p>
“that’s what you say,” the professor said. “i didn’t see anything.”
<p>
bob stared at the professor. “i thought you were my pal. ”
<p>
“i don’t know what gave you that idea.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92-HzxDhTOaQwNolmrwTI5ey9fxTAAwqz9K8yKAy9QZjtP6Hr1ZeUQx5R4j-oMJO4nhlpnaCgLN1i-HwGhv1nCwsUuaUmtSjm5LBnZPdbeRkd7Wiwqup1M0RGjnmVa0SUgiN5viezSP2A/s1600/147-games-c-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92-HzxDhTOaQwNolmrwTI5ey9fxTAAwqz9K8yKAy9QZjtP6Hr1ZeUQx5R4j-oMJO4nhlpnaCgLN1i-HwGhv1nCwsUuaUmtSjm5LBnZPdbeRkd7Wiwqup1M0RGjnmVa0SUgiN5viezSP2A/s1600/147-games-c-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he is bigger and stronger than me, the professor thought. and he might have the proverbial strength of a madman!
<p>
the professor turned the full force of his cosmic mind power on bob, and after a while bob turned and walked back down the hill.
<p>
the professor chuckled as he watched bob walk past the two wrecked vehicles and down the road in the rain.
<p>
ha ha, the poor fool, he thought, he doesn’t know about the million dollars in the basement!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_hXgyIT2GCBhLSMDTSE1V8HPdac0orYo5YjlCDmGDUb8ME07cECyy13vTJa-fhFF7SyQflxsIuBTeXjavIpM0nIswiqpT475HASGkDy93001uSHHmz0M1syU1emoUD8noZdgJtg71jq-/s1600/147-games-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_hXgyIT2GCBhLSMDTSE1V8HPdac0orYo5YjlCDmGDUb8ME07cECyy13vTJa-fhFF7SyQflxsIuBTeXjavIpM0nIswiqpT475HASGkDy93001uSHHmz0M1syU1emoUD8noZdgJtg71jq-/s1600/147-games-d-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the million dollars that is now all mine, because the old lady has been so conveniently done away with…
<p>
ha, ha, ha!
<p>
the professor felt in his pocket for the note mrs morris had given him with the directions to the treasure in the basement. it was there, and its crinkled satisfyingly in his fingers.
<p>
he turned and headed back to the house. he noticed the old lady’s body lying on the ground.
<p>
should he just leave it there? would anybody driving by see it? probably not.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGQSe6LLzMs-FIhXxtUJQDeaUCMOYLjsRwE3hJQsv3qNTEWRA87Xh8OCewO6XYHcK8N7Uj5oeGDiHW-yCfcIwDS7k_1sSU6wwe4EYq8kcvk0q6gNg-I8KPrzSbGb3Dz7MMPzUKIKkWCUq/s1600/147-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGQSe6LLzMs-FIhXxtUJQDeaUCMOYLjsRwE3hJQsv3qNTEWRA87Xh8OCewO6XYHcK8N7Uj5oeGDiHW-yCfcIwDS7k_1sSU6wwe4EYq8kcvk0q6gNg-I8KPrzSbGb3Dz7MMPzUKIKkWCUq/s1600/147-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
and the handyman’s body, lying up against the house, who would see that?
<p>
especially in this storm.
<p>
but the two wrecked cars at the bottom of the hill - somebody might well notice those.
<p>
the professor looked back down the hill at the cars. was there any chance either of them could be moved? it sure did not look like it. should he waste time checking?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-R0P3jspt9wNQqxfXBqGC_mhIwmeFmCtPjVgpytCVojALXqn7sEZTGmafXehTwBkxNzBP6FDVrPPtdMGRcfs6OfVxTITVoMvVKqL45InV7Zk_SPdGmLzDBrmwNlJtSamtBQQvGcjMBBz/s1600/147-games-f-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-R0P3jspt9wNQqxfXBqGC_mhIwmeFmCtPjVgpytCVojALXqn7sEZTGmafXehTwBkxNzBP6FDVrPPtdMGRcfs6OfVxTITVoMvVKqL45InV7Zk_SPdGmLzDBrmwNlJtSamtBQQvGcjMBBz/s1600/147-games-f-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
precious time he could be using digging up the million dollars?
<p>
suddenly he had an inspiration. an inspiration of the type that had served him well in so many similar situations before.
<p>
he would drag the two bodies down the hill. and if the cars could not be moved, and he suspected they could not, he would put one body in each of the two cars, and if the police or any other nosey parkers came along, they would just assume that they had crashed together.
<p>
with luck, nobody would even come up the hill and ask if he had heard anything.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAGdKi-XGmKndV8icfSFxA9WZZgyAGLHazZgRlfowLiv38x2rs_C4ixbf639i1K2s073wr6NIAsQgGNpA5UIrNeRWYWa0JviJ2aQuVmYm4znJzZhj_vbmwDw3VcMZHRI-BW6qt4jDr-ex/s1600/147-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAGdKi-XGmKndV8icfSFxA9WZZgyAGLHazZgRlfowLiv38x2rs_C4ixbf639i1K2s073wr6NIAsQgGNpA5UIrNeRWYWa0JviJ2aQuVmYm4znJzZhj_vbmwDw3VcMZHRI-BW6qt4jDr-ex/s1600/147-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
and if they did… well, he would think up something. say that it was his house, that he was taking a nap, had not heard anything…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0jgI2Jhc8RNy5y5VTX8kpJGn13X3_MQYdNOeXN9n2aedp1apZTDmh9Pvnwy7uGjTqDEI6YPQxWArsEdlfAVVdxh1Tcv7e7kxWY-jc67mcw4RG-7wB2Qhc9V6AZslmQlQyDXhZ20JGf1E/s1600/147-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0jgI2Jhc8RNy5y5VTX8kpJGn13X3_MQYdNOeXN9n2aedp1apZTDmh9Pvnwy7uGjTqDEI6YPQxWArsEdlfAVVdxh1Tcv7e7kxWY-jc67mcw4RG-7wB2Qhc9V6AZslmQlQyDXhZ20JGf1E/s1600/147-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
or maybe he would be down in the basement digging up the money when the police came, and he could tell them he was changing a fuse….
<p>
it would all work out. and he would be rich!
<p>
he came up to mrs morris’s body on the driveway. he reached down and began tugging on it.
<p>
damn! it was heavier than he expected. and the handyman’s body would be even heavier.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cRXdbgJpOJFir_X-GUBf007Vgrzk4COBiguwyuRuzOIFjnfdQeQfgoM2hTxgUCwAFZWYBs4EUMBMLb3vGCoTWbL2j02NB4X53C_JN-XSAzqcmq05gF1y15A2QoWew-G7SJnGcAu4GBm9/s1600/147-games-i-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cRXdbgJpOJFir_X-GUBf007Vgrzk4COBiguwyuRuzOIFjnfdQeQfgoM2hTxgUCwAFZWYBs4EUMBMLb3vGCoTWbL2j02NB4X53C_JN-XSAzqcmq05gF1y15A2QoWew-G7SJnGcAu4GBm9/s1600/147-games-i-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
maybe he should have kept bob around to help him. he could always have gotten rid of him later, one way or another.
<p>
oh well, he could not be expected to think of everything.
<p>
he started dragging the old lady’s body down the hill. it was slow work.
<p>
suddenly he slipped and lost his grip on the body and fell face first in the mud.
<p>
the wind was knocked out of him, and he lost consciousness.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jUWugYgdFwtOzZN1njId06UT7ZLyDNgmNJC07ZQQR5VIx1lqa6mjY0oLQipUJ5I_YAWLBTnOwQXGZccxW9-sBo_LU_J1ChIiD1OojxsZa606uqyxo1BwqBte919BsO2aru4QtdvPG78Z/s1600/147-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jUWugYgdFwtOzZN1njId06UT7ZLyDNgmNJC07ZQQR5VIx1lqa6mjY0oLQipUJ5I_YAWLBTnOwQXGZccxW9-sBo_LU_J1ChIiD1OojxsZa606uqyxo1BwqBte919BsO2aru4QtdvPG78Z/s1600/147-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
he did not know how long he lay there…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipevYLwrwEAcwBFPi42znKn4xWme5G4cloQy1xuV_ZiVRRn2cJ3cw0UWlelrFiccEoGjF0292Xd3pq1kdELas89ht5dXv73-KyAHKpF-6QboaQGI9pcut1UqfhPCgmG4WlJASi3st3TLC4/s1600/147-games-k-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipevYLwrwEAcwBFPi42znKn4xWme5G4cloQy1xuV_ZiVRRn2cJ3cw0UWlelrFiccEoGjF0292Xd3pq1kdELas89ht5dXv73-KyAHKpF-6QboaQGI9pcut1UqfhPCgmG4WlJASi3st3TLC4/s1600/147-games-k-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
when he regained consciousness , the storm was howling around him more ferociously than ever.
<p>
he was covered with mud from head to foot.
<p>
he looked back at the house and had one thought.
<p>
to get inside.
<p>
he tried to get up.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-21.html"><font color = "red">part 21</font></a></center>
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</br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/liw007O6YgE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-5399103162776498912016-11-03T11:18:00.002-07:002016-11-10T13:28:05.114-08:00games, part 19<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-18.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<br>
<table bgcolor = "black" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD219Bp93zdPLgblxrae8ikt-puvaqhfx6H0fuGa1CNFvMn655U265MO6kG85zsaKmUtC1ibZQsTEg1-JpbSDepa8ROKXW6RAHrwdDJ09sfgvqJcGHN1OgOIzdU18bL8i0nij4yK9aFw5i/s1600/146-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD219Bp93zdPLgblxrae8ikt-puvaqhfx6H0fuGa1CNFvMn655U265MO6kG85zsaKmUtC1ibZQsTEg1-JpbSDepa8ROKXW6RAHrwdDJ09sfgvqJcGHN1OgOIzdU18bL8i0nij4yK9aFw5i/s1600/146-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><center><i><b>"just hold the ladder steady,” porterfield told bob. “do you think you can do that?”
<p>
bob’s answer was lost in the wind.</b></i></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGG6pCMlYwjr1zq1uIZ-ELjdjnHInXI9qkxWF24rO7MSlYVqQXHn-XmWOG_CKG1c2jaUMvWFzTpuZOtuZUDX6Kgag_ICp5wFFlU6IrninYvDAZ4J5Dimeu7FUgh5GGwNEKxeSya2-Tn7-/s1600/146-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGG6pCMlYwjr1zq1uIZ-ELjdjnHInXI9qkxWF24rO7MSlYVqQXHn-XmWOG_CKG1c2jaUMvWFzTpuZOtuZUDX6Kgag_ICp5wFFlU6IrninYvDAZ4J5Dimeu7FUgh5GGwNEKxeSya2-Tn7-/s1600/146-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
when he was almost at the top of the ladder, porterfield was hit in the face with another gust of wind and his nerve failed him. there is no way, he thought, i will ever be able to board up all these windows. i should have started hours ago.
<p>
i am wasting time. i should be thinking of a way to murder the old lady and pin the blame on these two fellows - these two madmen. it is all well enough to have a general plan…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsVrbPlo7SPBgtShwkqfzfOC7NksCy4PnufZycFHPe-5p2aYMuRttpbYL3wwGj12GcHIPiB_9xonHzDUTzQFalcfDwlqPF4KQwD6grg-zomtCjxhXH_OIfoOm2M6HnBHp9ORoXbmcHpcc/s1600/146-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsVrbPlo7SPBgtShwkqfzfOC7NksCy4PnufZycFHPe-5p2aYMuRttpbYL3wwGj12GcHIPiB_9xonHzDUTzQFalcfDwlqPF4KQwD6grg-zomtCjxhXH_OIfoOm2M6HnBHp9ORoXbmcHpcc/s1600/146-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
holding on to the ladder with his left hand, the hand he had the hammer in, and clutching the board under this left arm, he slowly reached with his right hand into his shirt pocket for a nail…
<p>
the board under his arm slipped loose and clattered down the ladder.
<p>
bob jumped to the side, and as he did, he pushed the ladder away and it began to sway and then fell over …
<p>
porterfield crashed to the ground and broke his neck. he was killed instantly.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRUujaPZ034peKEZvGlh28ARCCYdbd3H39Z034Q9FfG785EOx9fx4ZH65UGyxm5TOjXFQgb_vM6njeotopSVi-BLom-NxhTJQFu1jOLIYgbNprIuUtWkdVFUSPYFouiCLKQmUKJgHuiGX/s1600/146-games-c-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRUujaPZ034peKEZvGlh28ARCCYdbd3H39Z034Q9FfG785EOx9fx4ZH65UGyxm5TOjXFQgb_vM6njeotopSVi-BLom-NxhTJQFu1jOLIYgbNprIuUtWkdVFUSPYFouiCLKQmUKJgHuiGX/s1600/146-games-c-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob stared at porterfield’s body lying in the soggy ground. he did not know for how long.
<p>
finally the cold rain penetrated his consciousness.
<p>
bob had been down this road before.
<p>
he knew that nobody would believe he had not killed porterfield on purpose.
<p>
he had to get away.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivz9NJ7Q1cwByICJQ_EIsQG67m5ZFPb3YENAWwXiDoI-f54syyQKEnYBECZdzhAbClNlkz_Q_CuTuXSlm1Z9-sggfSZldQyVs5ycaosjVX6POEz4HvBEdX4H-GbDRseY7nuo5cuQri-jrF/s1600/146-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivz9NJ7Q1cwByICJQ_EIsQG67m5ZFPb3YENAWwXiDoI-f54syyQKEnYBECZdzhAbClNlkz_Q_CuTuXSlm1Z9-sggfSZldQyVs5ycaosjVX6POEz4HvBEdX4H-GbDRseY7nuo5cuQri-jrF/s1600/146-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
where was the professor? and could he trust the professor?
<p>
the professor’s car was at the bottom of the hill. the professor must have the keys.
<p>
but even if bob could somehow get the keys from the professor, he, bob, was not a good driver under the best conditions because his mind wandered and he could not keep it on the road.
<p>
and the rain and wind were worse than ever.
<p>
bob looked around and saw a dark shape - it was the dead man’s car.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8qE_AA9jvqUq76CTNUV7yLMxQ0YU8w21NJoC8uZ2HEGoR0Rl-o8-qGdOH4L2GaXkrpW7H2tImdd9-LqB-VXI-EqXFh0HumlbjfIeHRMivAsoY4GUOU6kv9niV7Irh_rY2VmR5lLZWP7F/s1600/146-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8qE_AA9jvqUq76CTNUV7yLMxQ0YU8w21NJoC8uZ2HEGoR0Rl-o8-qGdOH4L2GaXkrpW7H2tImdd9-LqB-VXI-EqXFh0HumlbjfIeHRMivAsoY4GUOU6kv9niV7Irh_rY2VmR5lLZWP7F/s1600/146-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
the dead man - pete or pat or whatever he said his name was - must have the keys in his pocket.
<p>
bob decided to risk it. what choice did he have?
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRCqUgqYlRBEtOJa7q7x_TYFvYp8ILmikWiK3fnAx33ELbPCUA4WG0_aQoYO1fGNzxRfnk1Tdp8KT9a4G0UHKFyyhuoXYmNPQbyZOsORa5C8abvQ7HF7Pj-baaIskxwTZX1zWo1KYD8c5E/s1600/146-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRCqUgqYlRBEtOJa7q7x_TYFvYp8ILmikWiK3fnAx33ELbPCUA4WG0_aQoYO1fGNzxRfnk1Tdp8KT9a4G0UHKFyyhuoXYmNPQbyZOsORa5C8abvQ7HF7Pj-baaIskxwTZX1zWo1KYD8c5E/s1600/146-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
mrs morris watched as the professor made his way down the hall to the cellar door. he was not walking like a man with a purpose.
<p>
maybe i should go down with him, she thought, just see that he gets properly started.
<p>
she decided to take a quick peek outside, to see if porterfield and the young man were as busy as they should be.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQy9GzotooIjCDkgF5_mkKUBEGGBSORf9xnvQXJcQtHyIdlJmzTMLih167gawnIBDQPmSsl3AEwr-4V1yAIymoVEZaOHN_7mGCPf82jUlwJAiPQ8kio3LhVfZsG1whhx71UuS1GzgjyhZ/s1600/146-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQy9GzotooIjCDkgF5_mkKUBEGGBSORf9xnvQXJcQtHyIdlJmzTMLih167gawnIBDQPmSsl3AEwr-4V1yAIymoVEZaOHN_7mGCPf82jUlwJAiPQ8kio3LhVfZsG1whhx71UuS1GzgjyhZ/s1600/146-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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clutching her dressing gown around her, she made her way to the front door.
<p>
a savage blast of wind and rain smacked her in the face when she opened the door.
<p>
she started to try to close the door when she heard a car’s engine starting.
<p>
was porterfield leaving? why?
<p>
mrs morris ran out into the driveway. suddenly she was blinded by the headlights of porterfield’s car coming right at her.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5J1dtbIxEM8kKKe2ttjXntK4-Ah7WKfV-oCxwzyp1ICq1430Pjrx8EsosUODm2pns2VZtoo4K5aCX84TleosxLHPS9iSSbdyMc3EifA9BNvYzTm9RNqu74RbNecEBDSH06-F2AtpgsVzQ/s1600/146-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5J1dtbIxEM8kKKe2ttjXntK4-Ah7WKfV-oCxwzyp1ICq1430Pjrx8EsosUODm2pns2VZtoo4K5aCX84TleosxLHPS9iSSbdyMc3EifA9BNvYzTm9RNqu74RbNecEBDSH06-F2AtpgsVzQ/s1600/146-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
bob, who had not been able to figure out how to turn on the windshield wipers, never saw her.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FVey2DNYKs2-4VJua8Tz5aI1d45Ac-JqBxOrppvgr4ZSIJSWjMIiHeb8l6fNGPg92lwZzvQmVDdIxTStU1yepVA7M7Kr9yupdx_R50q8ueZuYNoynoawxhF-Fp9yGRE8fLvpoNtYuw0B/s1600/146-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FVey2DNYKs2-4VJua8Tz5aI1d45Ac-JqBxOrppvgr4ZSIJSWjMIiHeb8l6fNGPg92lwZzvQmVDdIxTStU1yepVA7M7Kr9yupdx_R50q8ueZuYNoynoawxhF-Fp9yGRE8fLvpoNtYuw0B/s1600/146-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor, after opening the cellar door, could not find a light switch at the head of the stairs.
<p>
he had forgotten that the old lady had told him not to use it, and in any case, he was not about to descend into the pitch dark cellar with no light at all.
<p>
as he turned back down the hall, he felt the blast of the wind coning through the open front door.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_F54XZ-eXS1y-0tRjcCXLbH8Y905r7vca96hJvvFkHiwG68wrGQThGC0L6lvOgVIE_EVnKLquHjpFks2bIN9Sl02-bFP9H9KlPWTbKr16Kxn-JEaokPs6WWjoDlHvXedCpzskxTPBll-/s1600/146-games-j-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_F54XZ-eXS1y-0tRjcCXLbH8Y905r7vca96hJvvFkHiwG68wrGQThGC0L6lvOgVIE_EVnKLquHjpFks2bIN9Sl02-bFP9H9KlPWTbKr16Kxn-JEaokPs6WWjoDlHvXedCpzskxTPBll-/s1600/146-games-j-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
then he heard a loud whacking sound and the screech of a car’s wheels on gravel.
<p>
he rushed outside. he almost tripped on the body of the old lady.
<p>
bob had missed the sloping driveway and porterfield’s car was bouncing and skidding down the hill.
<p>
with a tremendous crash porterfield’s car hit the professor’s car parked at the bottom of the hill.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcpbh1-dipT72r9sOBhNYzXpRLIrV15bcyjKeBE944ss6nSW36Yl0kfzI77VPGbhX0D-NwyYTqAY9QnyyC6qb0C7x9xaVgf1m1-MlcPkjGVbRpfXFgJdAA7bkUcEQI3CB0nv9q7beylbU/s1600/146-games-k-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQcpbh1-dipT72r9sOBhNYzXpRLIrV15bcyjKeBE944ss6nSW36Yl0kfzI77VPGbhX0D-NwyYTqAY9QnyyC6qb0C7x9xaVgf1m1-MlcPkjGVbRpfXFgJdAA7bkUcEQI3CB0nv9q7beylbU/s1600/146-games-k-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor looked around. in addition to mrs morris’s body, he saw porterfield’s body and the fallen ladder beside the house.
<p>
the professor started down the hill , toward the wreck of the two cars.
<p>
he heard a voice,
<p>
bob was coming up the hill. waving his arms and crying, “i’m all right! i’m all right!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rnFuglNyYIUw1U1eQrmzFOS6FzNQxYquqIgg5rnjvdwuOaxYZxpvUq95rzxxmNBjaVDhZ0M48jngz6KILSrhA2_bfVVfzjpvI-huBePtkFqP8UUt74k1MmYLRplmYNLP6UrlNZR3CRqU/s1600/146-games-l-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rnFuglNyYIUw1U1eQrmzFOS6FzNQxYquqIgg5rnjvdwuOaxYZxpvUq95rzxxmNBjaVDhZ0M48jngz6KILSrhA2_bfVVfzjpvI-huBePtkFqP8UUt74k1MmYLRplmYNLP6UrlNZR3CRqU/s1600/146-games-l-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you’re all right?” the professor shouted at bob. “what about my car? what about - what about everything?”
<p>
as he stood in the wind and rain, the professor took solace in a thought he had had many times before.
<p>
it was not just himself who was mad, it was the world.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-20.html"><font color = "red">part 20</font></a></center>
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</br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/94fcqEkPmSk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-9369039270407690462016-10-27T14:41:00.000-07:002016-11-03T11:19:35.263-07:00games, part 18<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-17.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<table bgcolor = "navy" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRn8Qt-GP3z0vEUoc1ud6es3T9ZHqS96VnipILMhUPEFkajpUCxrttUj7Ebznx1aFTbG-uR6RSF2msdk-oGy6v-h23G3k7L8nBN4PPwKrYDY5skuPO-LcF5jQwWwxCnkXeLArFRugpTqyO/s1600/145-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRn8Qt-GP3z0vEUoc1ud6es3T9ZHqS96VnipILMhUPEFkajpUCxrttUj7Ebznx1aFTbG-uR6RSF2msdk-oGy6v-h23G3k7L8nBN4PPwKrYDY5skuPO-LcF5jQwWwxCnkXeLArFRugpTqyO/s1600/145-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><center><i><b>“good, good,” mrs morris tightened her grip on the professor. “now, listen to me…</b></i></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKEwAz85zLKmyap3u2HoqyLdPpAjmimU1yE4LByOStuZQXA5V0UUaBbcLpZS5n9KwmFebWqWpXCHsHWNOD1PUQLNkJF4VXKNblckYnCc3JcI3NZXcttYuSENaMjoCZqTQLhkiNLQnUD3c/s1600/145-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijKEwAz85zLKmyap3u2HoqyLdPpAjmimU1yE4LByOStuZQXA5V0UUaBbcLpZS5n9KwmFebWqWpXCHsHWNOD1PUQLNkJF4VXKNblckYnCc3JcI3NZXcttYuSENaMjoCZqTQLhkiNLQnUD3c/s1600/145-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
there is a million dollars hidden in the basement..”
<p>
“yes, you already mentioned that,” said the professor.
<p>
“did i? it must be because i can’t impress on you strongly enough the seriousness of the situation. we, you and i, have to get that million dollars. and when we have it, we have to get in that car you say you have, and go far, far away… you do have that car, do you not?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdfUNvXrDOC_Dg3xdTpJ8KW7MpWjDHR-TFWmkZUocTeer44Mm855QBnoeLurDZCQ1olGrWoWVujEek7JANZauwWDifeB30PqkquPUGHIXc0JOcoMtLDnuzE2M1k4abGcb5aYaTXP8AqnZ/s1600/145-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBdfUNvXrDOC_Dg3xdTpJ8KW7MpWjDHR-TFWmkZUocTeer44Mm855QBnoeLurDZCQ1olGrWoWVujEek7JANZauwWDifeB30PqkquPUGHIXc0JOcoMtLDnuzE2M1k4abGcb5aYaTXP8AqnZ/s1600/145-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, of course. parked at the bottom of the hill. but…” the professor looked over at the windows, where the rain was streaming harder than ever. “… why now? it is a rather inclement night…”
<p>
mrs morris glared at him. “why, don’t you want half a million dollars? half a million, just to help me get out of here!”
<p>
“that’s very generous of you.” the professor looked down at his shoes, which were still soaked. “but, why now? tonight, of all nights?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w7xeOI__X8MzZF60FeMrxiBP6ZRgHXrHwjrZYrJLOvt1odhL7arLFRuA8PE8VIZ9fC5nsy-wSZ2gvSvR08QQAN6V2saHcC1bPpVZ4mhFDhbTr7PTTUP5C7LX21M7w3uOihNUN37cR48U/s1600/145-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-w7xeOI__X8MzZF60FeMrxiBP6ZRgHXrHwjrZYrJLOvt1odhL7arLFRuA8PE8VIZ9fC5nsy-wSZ2gvSvR08QQAN6V2saHcC1bPpVZ4mhFDhbTr7PTTUP5C7LX21M7w3uOihNUN37cR48U/s1600/145-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“because, you fool, tonight of all nights is the night porterfield has been waiting for! yes, don’t look so surprised, that nice young man who let you in - all he has thought about for twenty years is how to murder me and steal my money! and tonight is the perfect night! even now, i guarantee it, he is talking to that young fellow who came with you and he is offering him something - probably a dollar, whatever he would offer him to chop some wood - to kill me. so we have to act quickly!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-QTg3GPjSoZTqyd1B5DWDevXUGP6-SHW_MVcoWXHuoEWZvU5fWzYKVamnjKP8WWbl7YoJt99L2DvqxfGKoEeabGQvVCEgM8XcHT87RZgL5MbPz6kK7i992DhDIGGooJv73yyhwE3964M/s1600/145-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF-QTg3GPjSoZTqyd1B5DWDevXUGP6-SHW_MVcoWXHuoEWZvU5fWzYKVamnjKP8WWbl7YoJt99L2DvqxfGKoEeabGQvVCEgM8XcHT87RZgL5MbPz6kK7i992DhDIGGooJv73yyhwE3964M/s1600/145-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“but -“ the professor looked around the dark room. “what exactly do you want? where is this - this million dollars?”
<p>
“in the cellar, where else would it be?”
<p>
“of course, in the cellar.”
<p>
“listen carefully. at the end of the hallway over there - go all the way down to your left - is the door to the cellar. go down the stairs and go to the far left corner. away from the stairs, not behind them. then, take twenty paces to your right, and seven paces backward toward the stairs - “
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fOjW2SfwjFkSeZlk2bNOjEVEDjbiRXToaqGfjDED4eLYF9V-U7A4BlhVw3KAE7x0o02ttfko-N1UOdzhc5tNjE3X6OUXE_ntD_sXY9EwUCqiENX4eLLKNm2FHxALWlDViWLwUfBxQuTh/s1600/145-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fOjW2SfwjFkSeZlk2bNOjEVEDjbiRXToaqGfjDED4eLYF9V-U7A4BlhVw3KAE7x0o02ttfko-N1UOdzhc5tNjE3X6OUXE_ntD_sXY9EwUCqiENX4eLLKNm2FHxALWlDViWLwUfBxQuTh/s1600/145-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
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“i can’t remember all that,” cried the professor. “i can’t remember my own name half the time!”
<p>
“i wrote it down,” ms morris told him. she took a folded scrap of paper out of the pocket of her dressing own and stuck it in the professor’s hand. “here. now when you have marked the spot, go over behind the boiler and you will find a shovel - “
<p>
“wait,” the professor interrupted her, “will i be able to see what i am doing? do you have a flashlight i can use?’”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Hnnn51gmUd7zDoZO9zYaCsp3Dw78XvOInpaQ870zgi0rAAhHdfb_k25uqhf4Vt8t30fvYaHWUju17K45v4Gfurwb363qqH9LtAxY_qCxgg2FhCxdRzcY5YP7o7-CRbrfuN5jsZAmSuqX/s1600/145-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Hnnn51gmUd7zDoZO9zYaCsp3Dw78XvOInpaQ870zgi0rAAhHdfb_k25uqhf4Vt8t30fvYaHWUju17K45v4Gfurwb363qqH9LtAxY_qCxgg2FhCxdRzcY5YP7o7-CRbrfuN5jsZAmSuqX/s1600/145-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“there is a light switch but don’t use it! just let your eyes get accustomed to the dark. we don’t want porterfield to see that you are down there - then the game would be up!”
<p>
“but - but - in the dark - digging with a shovel - i’m an old man, i am not used to strenuous exercise - in fact i never was, even as a young fellow -“
<p>
“you can do it! listen! do you think porterfield will leave any witnesses? he will murder you too, once he has the money! the world is an evil place, filled with evil people, and porterfield is the most evil of them all! he will kill you as soon as look at you!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7915AJ8xqrpajzNSuv_RhA5hJOVr5_7A7eqzDQz5BCWT8gtB4r9ILCQYPiKbO312_5tnwlMo1_fkzw0tyAoJC29lwVK_9k8TMJUZ-ysGuozMLQe54qEBHZtsw5XSidbVr3MozC-ipkqj/s1600/145-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7915AJ8xqrpajzNSuv_RhA5hJOVr5_7A7eqzDQz5BCWT8gtB4r9ILCQYPiKbO312_5tnwlMo1_fkzw0tyAoJC29lwVK_9k8TMJUZ-ysGuozMLQe54qEBHZtsw5XSidbVr3MozC-ipkqj/s1600/145-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
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“can’t - can’t you come with me? then you can just show me what to do.”
<p>
“no, no, if porterfield comes back inside i will have to hold him here, and keep him talking while you are digging. now go!”
<p>
“all right, all right. but, there is just one thing - “
<p>
“what now? you know, i am starting to think you are not much of a man. and don’t want that half a million dollars. what is it now?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXRtur-21GHAJqij2AsFpbRepnGmO9EYLQ3KToaJBKsC5_gUF8qGtDuz3IKtCUcxQv5I3AZACTdlkZVhRHPg9wihDiE-37eQtMFstlMB_btjjRQ7XJjPPdiwU-iVXmHL_i4ge0a2QhdPV/s1600/145-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXRtur-21GHAJqij2AsFpbRepnGmO9EYLQ3KToaJBKsC5_gUF8qGtDuz3IKtCUcxQv5I3AZACTdlkZVhRHPg9wihDiE-37eQtMFstlMB_btjjRQ7XJjPPdiwU-iVXmHL_i4ge0a2QhdPV/s1600/145-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i - i have a confession to make.”
<p>
mrs morris glared at the professor. “and what is this terrible confession, that it can’t wait?”
<p>
“i am not really a professor.”
<p>
“sir, i did not know you were a professor. i don’t care if you are a professor or an organ grinder or william mckinley returned from the dead.” mrs morris grabbed the professor’s arm more tightly and pushed him to his feet. “go. do as you are told!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZghy6_CEBc2-kQbMde6HaUlXK8cIxzNpYOMSBCNy5dZSbsrue3t-DXQYGg_9_Erum58kwr5uE5G5KEZMsyIkSs5JS3Wo963tKurxASBR9pECmvNDEqr_GS85CL11_hOei1DCCOntyX65v/s1600/145-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZghy6_CEBc2-kQbMde6HaUlXK8cIxzNpYOMSBCNy5dZSbsrue3t-DXQYGg_9_Erum58kwr5uE5G5KEZMsyIkSs5JS3Wo963tKurxASBR9pECmvNDEqr_GS85CL11_hOei1DCCOntyX65v/s1600/145-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor stumbled toward the door and into the hallway. he turned to his right.
<p>
“left, left!,” mrs morris shouted.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
outside, porterfield and bob had found a ladder, and managed, against the wind, to get it placed against the side of the house.
<p>
they had a pile of boards at their feet, but the wind was blowing even those around.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidW4e7cMUdAO9Qi1EYy8aipiYO-Y1QJLyLwIvsx4zwzvOmUOZwTULEmhY4bVp-apvbrRPvg4acucVtpCfxEdNktttYoHt_eBfw7JCk0RAPZMAA13iWxLbhYB3vGQUr8WX7_yArYhE8gqlt/s1600/145-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidW4e7cMUdAO9Qi1EYy8aipiYO-Y1QJLyLwIvsx4zwzvOmUOZwTULEmhY4bVp-apvbrRPvg4acucVtpCfxEdNktttYoHt_eBfw7JCk0RAPZMAA13iWxLbhYB3vGQUr8WX7_yArYhE8gqlt/s1600/145-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
porterfield looked up at the side of the house. he wondered if trying to board up the windows was not a hopeless cause.
<p>
he started up the ladder with a board, a hammer, and some nails in his shirt pocket.
<p>
“just hold the ladder steady,” he told bob. “do you think you can do that?”
<p>
bob’s answer was lost in the wind.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZj1Hhy3UVrP5GdMGxvVugOJkoqBhWaxSZ9ieD0IRasJXBtMXDTJ8k0-c1V7BgviLhWfZmwhL3f9mgxwrvg-26HKAb0L6xBeMbeozV-XKMj6vq1DtPRbiOqxkmo-q-etCCUKL8TVqxS-g/s1600/145-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZj1Hhy3UVrP5GdMGxvVugOJkoqBhWaxSZ9ieD0IRasJXBtMXDTJ8k0-c1V7BgviLhWfZmwhL3f9mgxwrvg-26HKAb0L6xBeMbeozV-XKMj6vq1DtPRbiOqxkmo-q-etCCUKL8TVqxS-g/s1600/145-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the boarding house continued to shake as brenda made her way up the stairs to her room on the third floor.
<p>
she noticed that light was coming through the bottom of the door of cindy’s room.
<p>
brenda got into her own room. she wondered if she should even try to get to sleep.
<p>
she sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette. as she did, a fresh blast of wind, stronger than any that had gone before, shook the house.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Ze4K1PT2GgxB99ZfqoW2tWpYDsHQy9jYy02Ofhmz-pxs7C9C0HqN68LywoWKJ8gFh6rX97UQGSdYM8N7hUhw-3NLCu9M2EigtBBu0U0mCqMCfpiqcVbul6l9fml8TQNIj_1iibpy40Dl/s1600/145-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Ze4K1PT2GgxB99ZfqoW2tWpYDsHQy9jYy02Ofhmz-pxs7C9C0HqN68LywoWKJ8gFh6rX97UQGSdYM8N7hUhw-3NLCu9M2EigtBBu0U0mCqMCfpiqcVbul6l9fml8TQNIj_1iibpy40Dl/s1600/145-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she got up and went back into the hallway. she went up a short flight of stairs up to the attic and jenny’s room. there was a light under jenny’s door.
<p>
brenda rapped on the door. jenny had heard her coming up the stairs, and opened it right away.
<p>
“what?” jenny asked.
<p>
“this is getting pretty bad. we better get some blankets and candles ready just in case.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_xJaF5zQIK4wiSL2ziibLZpuIaMlKtizazcgcF-fJgnAoozBiWzQhARps73rPzVi-WmaBQrPaQDkztdR-6bQINmoH_M-o7lRWeRuX0wWNuvfe185upHmjT-N43-aYVZcZBr2B1C1lghb/s1600/145-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_xJaF5zQIK4wiSL2ziibLZpuIaMlKtizazcgcF-fJgnAoozBiWzQhARps73rPzVi-WmaBQrPaQDkztdR-6bQINmoH_M-o7lRWeRuX0wWNuvfe185upHmjT-N43-aYVZcZBr2B1C1lghb/s1600/145-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“just in case, for what?”
<p>
“in case the whole house gets blown in and we all have to go down in the cellar.”
<p>
“oh, i don’t think - “
<p>
“i don’t care what you think, jenny, it’s just a precaution, so let’s just do it.”
<p>
“but - “
<p>
“i know you let some of your bum friends into the cellar, i could hear them. is that what you are worried about?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0Caniwr9cS6jYTNad8Ug9QjVdIJkW0r7t-OyIJ4xSTTIWpqSgKUvswspKkt8tK935HYDwB3iIJ9Yf7lGu46Djr-AtyU3rcNiBYfRF3xXgdNg9SZv7FVJfjpq9G7APRMwD6K0dnSfzbdk/s1600/145-games-n-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0Caniwr9cS6jYTNad8Ug9QjVdIJkW0r7t-OyIJ4xSTTIWpqSgKUvswspKkt8tK935HYDwB3iIJ9Yf7lGu46Djr-AtyU3rcNiBYfRF3xXgdNg9SZv7FVJfjpq9G7APRMwD6K0dnSfzbdk/s1600/145-games-n-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“oh. can they - “
<p>
“yeah, that can stay. for tonight. in fact, why don’t you go get them, maybe they can make themselves useful. how many of them are there, by the way?”
<p>
jenny got a little red. “just two.”
<p>
“good, go get them. let them sit in the kitchen, then meet me in the laundry room.”
<p>
“what about miss jones and mister black?” jenny asked.
<p>
“i will worry about miss jones and mister black.”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9zwhmPAzw3KtqOxCZZtxlvU-TfLooFM2D3nCtgOJLBnMZcQ6c0V6rFN2ueWZTbSPUOQkbojyrwnWQZmKOly4JuTJjJF1nv7ADKou4q21PU74SUs-9cgmCBTmVK5qRD9ujupItA5gSX8F/s1600/145-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif9zwhmPAzw3KtqOxCZZtxlvU-TfLooFM2D3nCtgOJLBnMZcQ6c0V6rFN2ueWZTbSPUOQkbojyrwnWQZmKOly4JuTJjJF1nv7ADKou4q21PU74SUs-9cgmCBTmVK5qRD9ujupItA5gSX8F/s1600/145-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/11/games-part-19.html"><font color = "red">part 19</font></a></center>
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</br>
</ttd></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d_dmfsjuthQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-3845658797555665472016-10-21T03:42:00.000-07:002016-10-27T14:41:53.167-07:00games, part 17<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-16.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "#004e4a" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusCEUHvIzXK6g-ScuZhfBE8MYAWMWFudoD5R0EEYJmfaxSzovNm6eJ0nxjxEEZ4nXHEN4-NHwEb1_DO8loF5tj05y9QWFAZRVDPY1N1Csa_JQjhBF66fy7quClAq2nBN_k9rU7d4P8ZFw/s1600/144-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusCEUHvIzXK6g-ScuZhfBE8MYAWMWFudoD5R0EEYJmfaxSzovNm6eJ0nxjxEEZ4nXHEN4-NHwEb1_DO8loF5tj05y9QWFAZRVDPY1N1Csa_JQjhBF66fy7quClAq2nBN_k9rU7d4P8ZFw/s1600/144-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><center><i><b>“you brought then here to murder me!,” mrs morris screamed. “help! help!</i> murder! murder!”</b></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmcDhUvioxGpU6C_WDPDt9wttwcTsUGig8tuyUqE0D69qJd5xVPkUNiafSiaFjTJcYo73Ig-LzNEmCSbb5b6C6M6OOm2o2r3fRxcmdb7zHUP2n9Zqv7rjTZREiD-AnzN0vmCzDaoJUEjV/s1600/144-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgmcDhUvioxGpU6C_WDPDt9wttwcTsUGig8tuyUqE0D69qJd5xVPkUNiafSiaFjTJcYo73Ig-LzNEmCSbb5b6C6M6OOm2o2r3fRxcmdb7zHUP2n9Zqv7rjTZREiD-AnzN0vmCzDaoJUEjV/s1600/144-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“now, mrs morris,” porterfied looked up at the balcony. “you know these gentlemen don’t know your sense of fun…”
<p>
“i’m going to call the police!” mrs morris shouted. “you can’t stop me!”
<p>
“yes, mrs morris, why don’t you do that? ha, ha!” porterfield turned to bob and the professor as mrs morris left the balcony and retreated to her room. “ha, ha! quite batty, as you can plainly see, gentlemen.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFxCb80VCpCmFm3_KNYTKjvEOagZ5KQqxChXDHik5O4a1rAlne8c6Qrsilo7RPVgGWW5INVTq44z4rwbEdnXaKLwje4JdCGZQm46KkE2cPKdegmIWukOyd_oHzGrugHn39f_gs-GXlfl_/s1600/144-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFxCb80VCpCmFm3_KNYTKjvEOagZ5KQqxChXDHik5O4a1rAlne8c6Qrsilo7RPVgGWW5INVTq44z4rwbEdnXaKLwje4JdCGZQm46KkE2cPKdegmIWukOyd_oHzGrugHn39f_gs-GXlfl_/s1600/144-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob and the professor were both staring at the empty balcony.
<p>
“did you bring us here to murder her?” bob asked in a matter of fact voice.
<p>
“of course not! what a thought!” porterfield laughed as heartily as he could manage. “ did i say anything about a murder? the poor old thing is quite mad, that’s all!”
<p>
“well, you never know, “ bob answered. “it didn’t hurt to ask, did it?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2spNDiUmHaWhRfVqC14oJX1X0_3-DUUZDVaEjS_xz2fdWXAFfJpr7VfmElwi99VqWkn73W9I4-R9LLD8XwuRp0w9YoklIHUMMNEcPaHwix3naLLpgO9i_sEadivaLjXtE6IBl-qOBj6vh/s1600/144-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2spNDiUmHaWhRfVqC14oJX1X0_3-DUUZDVaEjS_xz2fdWXAFfJpr7VfmElwi99VqWkn73W9I4-R9LLD8XwuRp0w9YoklIHUMMNEcPaHwix3naLLpgO9i_sEadivaLjXtE6IBl-qOBj6vh/s1600/144-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“no, i suppose not.” this was getting very strange, porterfield thought. maybe they really are both mad and escaped from an asylum.
<p>
“i’ve seen and done things too terrible to be believed,” bob continued.
<p>
“well, that’s good,” porterfield answered with a chuckle. “then you must be a pretty capable fellow. so why don’t we get cracking and board those windows up, eh?”
<p>
“killing a little old lady would be all in a day’s work for me, “ bob said. “you wouldn’t believe the things i’ve done.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGifye2bK61XC_poFQV665Jv-yt6z03XoOr3wK5c4IlH1sknUHLsYYwSiAocd88YH9ZdIunE9T6d3ZGdVJtU3ZM6PRkjt3DEXrQQ11mCOp9SGCDcJB16zRC_l-BcIwqYwxsthh4OL9prCw/s1600/144-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGifye2bK61XC_poFQV665Jv-yt6z03XoOr3wK5c4IlH1sknUHLsYYwSiAocd88YH9ZdIunE9T6d3ZGdVJtU3ZM6PRkjt3DEXrQQ11mCOp9SGCDcJB16zRC_l-BcIwqYwxsthh4OL9prCw/s1600/144-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor, seated on the couch, seemed to be paying no attention to the conversation between bob and porrterfield, but was staring into the unlit fireplace.
<p>
“heh, heh, i see you have a dry sense of humor, young man.” porterfield put his hand gently - very gently - on bob’s elbow, and began steering him out of the room. “but those boards won’t nail themselves up.”
<p>
porterfield looked back at the professor. “make yourself a fire, sir. everything you need is there. we will expect a roaring warm fire when we come back inside, won’t we, bob?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijf4k8hcKwOMezTA-_hH8-FiyXx3TUElRYbuc8WVyN30vY15BFF5VBTf3mV7p3YYKaMkPvtQqRsjVQpFbYrz4rjakcFeDP7YUX2cul4Qam2S12sVAQMyAjWWDbxFjJaHvvwVPZNDQ0s6Fz/s1600/144-games-e-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijf4k8hcKwOMezTA-_hH8-FiyXx3TUElRYbuc8WVyN30vY15BFF5VBTf3mV7p3YYKaMkPvtQqRsjVQpFbYrz4rjakcFeDP7YUX2cul4Qam2S12sVAQMyAjWWDbxFjJaHvvwVPZNDQ0s6Fz/s1600/144-games-e-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
neither bob nor the professor responded, and porterfield left the professor to his thoughts and led bob back outside.
<p>
porterfield’s own thoughts were in a whirl. first off, had mrs morris actually called the police? probably not, but she might have. and if she had, it was not likely that the police would come out, especially on such a night.
<p>
mrs morris would go for months without actually calling the police on porterfield, no matter how much she threatened to. and then she would call every night for three weeks, and they would come out a few times the first week - if it was a slow night and they were really bored.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Cx8fLN8ImlCVU5vGSoDxAfCIz6Cwbxg1BPTRZpcXFjKAKMMiOHJMOJopgHOkKA0vEQITfzKsWv5IVie89se7MJgV-A0L1BPN6rzzcBFpvcxtzg_omLKy4VerY1za3rIoiRN1QEcEJdHy/s1600/144-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Cx8fLN8ImlCVU5vGSoDxAfCIz6Cwbxg1BPTRZpcXFjKAKMMiOHJMOJopgHOkKA0vEQITfzKsWv5IVie89se7MJgV-A0L1BPN6rzzcBFpvcxtzg_omLKy4VerY1za3rIoiRN1QEcEJdHy/s1600/144-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
all well and good. at the same time, did he really want her calling the police on the very night he decided to actually get rid of her?
<p>
what if somebody besides the local sheriff and police, who were familiar with mrs morris’s cracked ways, got involved in the investigation of her demise? some smart-alecky district attorney from the state capital, looking to make his mark? could porterfield palm the two madmen off on him?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdyahBVpUzv4tbc6w7o5Bj1D883ilXTsR7Z21_WsTuxcv7vfrnA5mUR8-WYQt0MtlX_yhG0rEzL4D1oXaWagbf2gxOxovOakf9mYijBPrM2iHKn2rLfb_B0szHjChJh2aHSC48f71xIQc/s1600/144-games-g-zoom.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdyahBVpUzv4tbc6w7o5Bj1D883ilXTsR7Z21_WsTuxcv7vfrnA5mUR8-WYQt0MtlX_yhG0rEzL4D1oXaWagbf2gxOxovOakf9mYijBPrM2iHKn2rLfb_B0szHjChJh2aHSC48f71xIQc/s1600/144-games-g-zoom.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
what a dilemma! these two fellows were so perfect! so perfect! the chance he had been waiting for!
<p>
he would have to determine if mrs morris had called the police. just the fact that they did not show up would not show she had not called.
<p>
why was everything so difficult? why was life so unfair?
<p>
porterfield pushed the foot door open against the wind, and a blast of rain hit him and bob in their faces.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEblw9bzD_fV5btfCyC8wAFBRQKBhl2FemSiBmcNPo5WQpIEj6mtwrYMPyrfwTU1SmhYfaop5FsThKFngBT8lcJYNPOlSSVZBrhptk-zW2vC9xfvg3zqLT7ECCYQk_foXXPVJaPxSLfCFN/s1600/144-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEblw9bzD_fV5btfCyC8wAFBRQKBhl2FemSiBmcNPo5WQpIEj6mtwrYMPyrfwTU1SmhYfaop5FsThKFngBT8lcJYNPOlSSVZBrhptk-zW2vC9xfvg3zqLT7ECCYQk_foXXPVJaPxSLfCFN/s1600/144-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor continued to stare into the dead fireplace.
<p>
he did not need a fire to stare into the flames.
<p>
he thought of his life, of all his past lives, on earth, in the golden empire of betelgeuse, and in all the other universes and dimensions he had passed through.
<p>
of all the kingdoms he had conquered, and of all the women who had betrayed him, and the comrades who had stabbed him in the back…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0fIGG8KIzA63ouEw1kAv4YB6tPR9DAuK6AmdKd0wtOjdY8YEZt6_6i_VK1PjzhWYyykG9lyaJgKJPYFC0JzGMIOYtQgjPYvz2FOHmgwSD5ki8QWi_HfDoEdcxGllYMgp9YG8-QguhJTg/s1600/144-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT0fIGG8KIzA63ouEw1kAv4YB6tPR9DAuK6AmdKd0wtOjdY8YEZt6_6i_VK1PjzhWYyykG9lyaJgKJPYFC0JzGMIOYtQgjPYvz2FOHmgwSD5ki8QWi_HfDoEdcxGllYMgp9YG8-QguhJTg/s1600/144-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he dd not make a move to light a fire, but after a while he awoke from his reverie enough to try to light his pipe.
<p>
after a few attempts he succeeded, and took a long satisfying puff.
<p>
as he did so he felt someone sitting beside him on the couch.
<p>
it was mrs morris.
<p>
mrs morris, clutching the collar of a heavy blue dressing gown, and staring at him with large red-veined eyes.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSYoPIZYzHgJRuwRGuXEbahlBYS-gbohtxacRnRxf6vh4spds3UdPlmkNFrNZhpMzPkqF05EvQbFy3Oopo4WWZBNhZdE26xUdkSt-vZip-4bDrZF2mGfYem5PncY7qoeK5WIc1piTRZLN/s1600/144-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSYoPIZYzHgJRuwRGuXEbahlBYS-gbohtxacRnRxf6vh4spds3UdPlmkNFrNZhpMzPkqF05EvQbFy3Oopo4WWZBNhZdE26xUdkSt-vZip-4bDrZF2mGfYem5PncY7qoeK5WIc1piTRZLN/s1600/144-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“good evening, madam,” the professor addressed her in his most suave manner. “i thank you for your hospitality.”
<p>
“hospitality be damned,” she hissed. “and there is nothing good about it.”
<p>
“it is a bit inclement,” the professor agreed.
<p>
“porterfield - he wants you to murder me, doesn’t he?”
<p>
“the young fellow who let us in? why no, he didn’t mention anything of the sort. seemed rather a pleasant chap, in fact, though perhaps a bit intense.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMRBiDpTU3wJCEgW_AOxpWSgvItC1-rvYYYaBgwyiKZM0YMUdjikQE0TQIFwDCtAoy2VPE13bd_By9VnY86posn-fdOU8hQCLEtOLsFt6k0zoBEXiLj2SOQ2HRY-M03kReNiTKP8GuqRaq/s1600/144-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMRBiDpTU3wJCEgW_AOxpWSgvItC1-rvYYYaBgwyiKZM0YMUdjikQE0TQIFwDCtAoy2VPE13bd_By9VnY86posn-fdOU8hQCLEtOLsFt6k0zoBEXiLj2SOQ2HRY-M03kReNiTKP8GuqRaq/s1600/144-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“intent on murdering me, you mean.” mrs morris stared at the professor. “do you have a car? you must have come here in a car.”
<p>
“why yes, i do. parked at the bottom of the hill. the rather steep hill, if i do say so.”
<p>
“good, good.” mrs morris leaned closer to the professor. “i have a secret.”
<p>
“we all have secrets, madam.”
<p>
“yes, yes.” mrs morris shifted on the couch closer to the professor. “secrets, secrets! you are mad, aren’t you?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3WIc78iFRgRVcWX8Uxb6WsTLk6hydi3zxXHDKZR8KUvJ8GM-3XhJRHFy-XfwU_g1BzoZkYa3f2CztAcIh9bsoGWhpb5YVhXLjY4taja19DWSsEeJqyNFO0vQfsKyEMZg4GKiTc9jadAi/s1600/144-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3WIc78iFRgRVcWX8Uxb6WsTLk6hydi3zxXHDKZR8KUvJ8GM-3XhJRHFy-XfwU_g1BzoZkYa3f2CztAcIh9bsoGWhpb5YVhXLjY4taja19DWSsEeJqyNFO0vQfsKyEMZg4GKiTc9jadAi/s1600/144-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the professor waved his pipe. “madness does not exist in nature,” he answered calmly. “only in the eyes of the soulless clinician.”
<p>
“quite so! ha,ha! yes, you’ll do! i see that you, like me, have penetrated to the secret heart of things.”
<p>
“i make some effort in that regard.”
<p>
“listen! do you know what i have hidden in the basement?’”
<p>
“no, madam, why don’t you tell me?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayS7cCsszom1lYVz3KuFeL3yyoON5aZFyO36EzdvaxI3IUVbDkNQSaaxVCNzlFAtI5cE2e869xGPATexoUlQN91Qak6ZjME-EjDfxzJHb0_lKuo1a3QyhD2n99p871NTur1z2E-jutgRW/s1600/144-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayS7cCsszom1lYVz3KuFeL3yyoON5aZFyO36EzdvaxI3IUVbDkNQSaaxVCNzlFAtI5cE2e869xGPATexoUlQN91Qak6ZjME-EjDfxzJHb0_lKuo1a3QyhD2n99p871NTur1z2E-jutgRW/s1600/144-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“a million dollars!” mrs morris looked around the dark room after making this announcement.
<p>
“a tidy sum,” the professor agreed.
<p>
“tidy enough enough to get me murdered in my bed.” mrs morris grabbed the professor’s arm. “by porterfield and - that young man who came in with you, what is he to you?”
<p>
“why, nothing. just a young fellow i picked up on the road a couple of hours ago. i had never seen him before in my life.”
<p>
“good, good,” mrs morris tightened her grip on the professor. “now, listen to me….”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuavqNuiQvJQ44Rj-_wWL6GPJ9vYPAmxE_u9NLQdqfZtyI9EgKeTiPKqOQDnlB5q-XAPRcCLlmUqOsHBJ33BvM7TEMH0EdsbSKUlMhzNXnauQk7aSO71LzVVup3O8VXpi2jlUxBWe3SrU/s1600/144-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyuavqNuiQvJQ44Rj-_wWL6GPJ9vYPAmxE_u9NLQdqfZtyI9EgKeTiPKqOQDnlB5q-XAPRcCLlmUqOsHBJ33BvM7TEMH0EdsbSKUlMhzNXnauQk7aSO71LzVVup3O8VXpi2jlUxBWe3SrU/s1600/144-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-18.html"><font color = "red">part 18</font></a></center>
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</br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/O5BTFqnQLi4" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-73441354119945981882016-10-14T09:51:00.000-07:002016-10-21T03:46:00.129-07:00games, part 16<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-15.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<br>
<table bgcolor = "black" width = 520><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYG_qKsFsw44ntgqTTLprbqJut4W10KAPYFGRTbZYYDOjt35owfdBQXFwFQxelbwHWfGTrNufJqjQ0TXExREgUe3PWN_Cik7JGWCMoIb_D0V8ghprpm_l5My6TJe3Vr9FtNg7XUPSvdQo/s1600/143-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "300" width = "400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYG_qKsFsw44ntgqTTLprbqJut4W10KAPYFGRTbZYYDOjt35owfdBQXFwFQxelbwHWfGTrNufJqjQ0TXExREgUe3PWN_Cik7JGWCMoIb_D0V8ghprpm_l5My6TJe3Vr9FtNg7XUPSvdQo/s1600/143-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><center><i><b>but as they got closer, suddenly a beautiful thought entered porterfield’s brain.
<p>
maybe, he thought, i have been waiting for these gentry for years. maybe they are the pawns of fate, come to save me.</b></i></center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATWI18t8X5d7hnSavSpiGvIx69XI5LZIn5ZYQah5z0oJK5yIKaXK1ZarjS5SqDequa8ZmUL05NxELINwElxL432XL4RjYhDrdI-ES7dArxRm0st9GH3OkT0NczZsx9TaBblvDSYH7WLn4/s1600/143-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhATWI18t8X5d7hnSavSpiGvIx69XI5LZIn5ZYQah5z0oJK5yIKaXK1ZarjS5SqDequa8ZmUL05NxELINwElxL432XL4RjYhDrdI-ES7dArxRm0st9GH3OkT0NczZsx9TaBblvDSYH7WLn4/s1600/143-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
for years porterfeld had dreamed of murdering <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-12.html"><font color = "red">mrs morris</font></a>, so that he would finally have a completely free hand to ransack the house for her hidden wealth.
<p>
and if he found nothing, then he could just be on his way.
<p>
but had never been able to get up the nerve, telling himself that he would be too obvious a suspect.
<p>
but a passing tramp, or a couple of passing tramps … if only they would come along at the exactly right time! and if he, porterfield , could somehow manipulate them into murdering mrs morris…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH38-y9szhU8D8ecd2AmPdG9v_QT9KE4lgOI9KH1_Rqq3WHg9UJYAuEp6_fLYziCJndu6JhFkvOXWcBXzhY5IuB3qn3kqYzUwQmGeZJDey9sn4jhmhuRDFAqnNU8BQ1yE9vDOjYIhHM969/s1600/143-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH38-y9szhU8D8ecd2AmPdG9v_QT9KE4lgOI9KH1_Rqq3WHg9UJYAuEp6_fLYziCJndu6JhFkvOXWcBXzhY5IuB3qn3kqYzUwQmGeZJDey9sn4jhmhuRDFAqnNU8BQ1yE9vDOjYIhHM969/s1600/143-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he could always try making up a story about tramps, but he knew that when the police found no trace of them, that would make him, porterfield, who had told the story, even more of an obvious suspect.
<p>
but now, suddenly, these two had come along!
<p>
and the storm! perfect cover!
<p>
not that he would try to get them to murder mrs morris. he would have to do that himself. but they would be there - “trapped” by the storm! ha, ha!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0P8EXA2Kx3Fjj10UX-O_f4j3BRvjb1FZjw8_y8GV8mxCc8bovCeCZ9W5nN4lopvcIASpMC0HTNXkprH4WuzzbMYU0tFDVoLY-JygSYCKPRBdxWNnEOisGdH3uHJXuM1HDnhu6w3pLIi1/s1600/143-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0P8EXA2Kx3Fjj10UX-O_f4j3BRvjb1FZjw8_y8GV8mxCc8bovCeCZ9W5nN4lopvcIASpMC0HTNXkprH4WuzzbMYU0tFDVoLY-JygSYCKPRBdxWNnEOisGdH3uHJXuM1HDnhu6w3pLIi1/s1600/143-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
all this ran through porterfield’s brain in less than a minute. he watched from the shelter of the side of the side of the house as the two men made their stumbling way up the hill. t he wind was in their faces, and they made slow progress.
<p>
as they came closer, he saw that they did not quite fit the idea of “tramps” he had always had in his mind - circus clown looking fellows with battered hats and big red noses.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemrL2Awy9UEdAkBS4hAwhC54R6dHkEwi4RGwmGTdJswK6qyogoNoiTo4gqoLxvJgaDE1EBMx-CArusplXTaIT2vBu8yJMResrrzEDuDcV8HPEY7Cv_Jid2JML9kFDWg1uDQ-lse8cULZz/s1600/143-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemrL2Awy9UEdAkBS4hAwhC54R6dHkEwi4RGwmGTdJswK6qyogoNoiTo4gqoLxvJgaDE1EBMx-CArusplXTaIT2vBu8yJMResrrzEDuDcV8HPEY7Cv_Jid2JML9kFDWg1uDQ-lse8cULZz/s1600/143-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the taller, younger one looked like one of the old fashioned “hired men” that walked the roads in the years before the war.
<p>
and the shorter one, that he was helping along, looked like - well, he did not look like, porterfield could see right away that he was a professor.
<p>
so maybe they were not bums after all. maybe the younger one was the professor’s chauffeur, though he did not look like one.
<p>
porterfield would just have to play it by ear.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK194CCFdNsM7XcR9bTLj4FrxFkj856-lwPJAMiZp4VxUfleKayZRY8VKmMY2XBsJPZNcAvxboQXqMSnVCSO_I4IuT_eqoq3CuHpB3NPGe-zZBhwSfjdp8y_f9o5p2mrvDPtKUUOcUQmHA/s1600/143-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK194CCFdNsM7XcR9bTLj4FrxFkj856-lwPJAMiZp4VxUfleKayZRY8VKmMY2XBsJPZNcAvxboQXqMSnVCSO_I4IuT_eqoq3CuHpB3NPGe-zZBhwSfjdp8y_f9o5p2mrvDPtKUUOcUQmHA/s1600/143-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
friendliness was not something porterfied was very good at, but he gave it a try.
<p>
“howdy, fellows!” he shouted. “mighty rough night, eh?”
<p>
“i guess,“ the younger one replied. he released his hold on the older one, who, once he had reached the shelter of the house, seemed perfectly capable of standing his own two feet.
<p>
“say,” porterfield continued, “how would you two fellows like to give me a hand? i’ll make it worth your while.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgG0zq4jBtkxwgpmWYqQfb9GCHY4GPBE7b9wU5-Gz5CcLGBZCmmNN2tIiqHY9hyphenhyphenMb0ib9km0gNVkifbjkoKkajZxcOW-5Kyw7PNuTJFSQs5iYZwKAJ6V54h63G3N_SKHNgq2_3XzvLZOD/s1600/143-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgG0zq4jBtkxwgpmWYqQfb9GCHY4GPBE7b9wU5-Gz5CcLGBZCmmNN2tIiqHY9hyphenhyphenMb0ib9km0gNVkifbjkoKkajZxcOW-5Kyw7PNuTJFSQs5iYZwKAJ6V54h63G3N_SKHNgq2_3XzvLZOD/s1600/143-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“maybe,” the younger one answered . he was looking at the door and the windows as if he would like to get behind them. sheltered as they were, the wind was still whipping around them and they were all three still getting wet.
<p>
the older man - the professor - had wiped the rain from his glasses and was looking around and up at the house with an expression of polite curiosity.
<p>
“i could use some help going around and making sure all these windows are boarded up,” porterfield said. “i’ll get a ladder. and then when we are done you can come in and dry off and have some hot coffee or cider and maybe even a slice of pie, how does that sound?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTNdprFhdYI-EHN-RrLibN5eav7mziLBy8fZ2sRyDEAIpm2dWQfJQChqH6JCxDJtDrlDGCGS-bCfizPk-ng9ExAtgFTVYIBTz-J6Ux7dIP3z9uQS2WsFb4onThHmxYUDb_XFlaX_nGZAf/s1600/143-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnTNdprFhdYI-EHN-RrLibN5eav7mziLBy8fZ2sRyDEAIpm2dWQfJQChqH6JCxDJtDrlDGCGS-bCfizPk-ng9ExAtgFTVYIBTz-J6Ux7dIP3z9uQS2WsFb4onThHmxYUDb_XFlaX_nGZAf/s1600/143-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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the younger man looked up at the big house with its rows of windows. “i could do that,” he answered without enthusiasm. “i don’t know if he could.”
<p>
“i am afraid of heights,” the professor said matter-of -factly. “and i always fall off ladders.”
<p>
“ha, ha! well in that case, sir, why don’t you just step inside and make yourself at home. and i will get the ladder and this stout young fellow and myself will see to the windows. my name is pete, by the way, pete porterfield.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiUm3W0nWoQvbVgGQlPagHPgld23t2z9RV-oiY3biWAD3bs4xiwneBtAI1XbtRNEDkwDmfW8whUKCwvVj1RhZrF3idqNmubyLhmjbAvTUAPo5d-O27IqC9jui1G0PotkYMim9y24EKVPD/s1600/143-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiUm3W0nWoQvbVgGQlPagHPgld23t2z9RV-oiY3biWAD3bs4xiwneBtAI1XbtRNEDkwDmfW8whUKCwvVj1RhZrF3idqNmubyLhmjbAvTUAPo5d-O27IqC9jui1G0PotkYMim9y24EKVPD/s1600/143-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“my name is bob,” said the younger man.
<p>
“pleased to make your acquaintance, bob. and are you - this gentleman’s chauffeur?”
<p>
“no,” said bob. “I’m just a guy.”
<p>
“ just a guy. well, nothing wrong with that. and you, sir, if my eyes don’t deceive me i take it you are a professor of some sort.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaiWBa4dhvpLsKlbCcf9_tKdgFoNl_6PeG6O5PtYJ52Wq_rZyz1U6vDOybBLaXMmmD7MzfXmpD62QE5Qd_QKva9cue4pgxvz39jc03z_S9K2DGIpIQPxqn5W7uKueY15eiXIrgSIA-DUS/s1600/143-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaiWBa4dhvpLsKlbCcf9_tKdgFoNl_6PeG6O5PtYJ52Wq_rZyz1U6vDOybBLaXMmmD7MzfXmpD62QE5Qd_QKva9cue4pgxvz39jc03z_S9K2DGIpIQPxqn5W7uKueY15eiXIrgSIA-DUS/s1600/143-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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as if to conform porterfield’s surmise, the professor took his pipe out of his pocket.
<p>
“ha, ha! a professor! yes, young man, you have hit the nail! yes, you have hit the nail, but not right on the head, only halfway on the head! and do you know why that is!”
<p>
an odd duck, thought porterfield, but he figured most professors were. “no, sir, why is that?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQy3_Ot2Vujmb3h8c-8hHkB06cWsRE1FbhKfXdMXEx6vWsYRWaNBQBUKuOZAKowv9EcEuMdDQJ9NyPeak-LmoOwGlQFm6uLSxEq_gohcH9j93IrPV942FSiA0TxGQDH8OfTUmGoN2UUOcs/s1600/143-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQy3_Ot2Vujmb3h8c-8hHkB06cWsRE1FbhKfXdMXEx6vWsYRWaNBQBUKuOZAKowv9EcEuMdDQJ9NyPeak-LmoOwGlQFm6uLSxEq_gohcH9j93IrPV942FSiA0TxGQDH8OfTUmGoN2UUOcs/s1600/143-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“because being a professor is just the outward form i have taken on my visit to this universe.”
<p>
“i see.” why, thought porterfield, he’s crazy.
<p>
“yes,” the professor continued, “i am actually the emperor ton-wa xviii, of the empire of betelgeuse. and i have been cast into this world by my evil witch of a wife.”
<p>
porterfield could see that the younger man was surprised by this declaration. why, he is as crazy as a bedbug, he thought. maybe they both are - they are a couple of inmates escaped from an asylum!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JYj3Ii7WPfuYeGJEsvcDZNbp-UAHxY5WjoYCTFBVFaqH4apBst7V9kH1gXPT0rzZ6TBBC-8kzh3aKsxOIQGHtcmNOuU4OReMM8LeO_91OD93tf76Lzp6HBAkdarLMYo7q5jAxzhyphenhyphenT0og/s1600/143-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JYj3Ii7WPfuYeGJEsvcDZNbp-UAHxY5WjoYCTFBVFaqH4apBst7V9kH1gXPT0rzZ6TBBC-8kzh3aKsxOIQGHtcmNOuU4OReMM8LeO_91OD93tf76Lzp6HBAkdarLMYo7q5jAxzhyphenhyphenT0og/s1600/143-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
how perfect is this!
<p>
“well sir, that is good to know, “ porterfield answered with a genuine smile. “but look here, we are getting wet, why don’t you come in, come in.” he opened the door behind him and held it open as bob and the professor entered.
<p>
porterfield led them into a large front room and switched on a lamp. except that there was no rain falling in it, it was almost as dreary and cold in the room as it had been outside.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2r2ZvnOJkFvt4rkEDN9evMQwZC6cy12ODXlHGxv6N9zvnQnJ0Ay91uDbM7oA2xQAN4VZ4fXw4O2RzMpd7JVQYmvATb8yQ55lOTsTY4SZNx2WAgFfxp9UEvXOxKFyDkBaFYAStsok_eu9/s1600/143-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2r2ZvnOJkFvt4rkEDN9evMQwZC6cy12ODXlHGxv6N9zvnQnJ0Ay91uDbM7oA2xQAN4VZ4fXw4O2RzMpd7JVQYmvATb8yQ55lOTsTY4SZNx2WAgFfxp9UEvXOxKFyDkBaFYAStsok_eu9/s1600/143-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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“make yourself at home, sir.” porterfield told the professor. he pointed to a large fireplace. “make yourself a fire. make yourself a fire while young bob here and myself see to the windows.”
<p>
the professor looked doubtfully at the fireplace. he made no move toward it, but sank down on a large couch, with a curiously defeated air as if his declaration of being the emperor ton-wa xviii had taken something out of him.
<p>
there was a staircase on the side of the room leading up to a darkened balcony.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9_4eAya3kV_NHDMbzLOozbu9tKYhUNMaiYNID2jjsqILhiwFH1sg2EGteWyHZmuSnhSCI_MsXl8lPeKS0NIYqqOCa-JtvGN3ih035v4YUa3TIwidDuggIL_0uJQjXfzsYkfCDLvQu2N9/s1600/143-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9_4eAya3kV_NHDMbzLOozbu9tKYhUNMaiYNID2jjsqILhiwFH1sg2EGteWyHZmuSnhSCI_MsXl8lPeKS0NIYqqOCa-JtvGN3ih035v4YUa3TIwidDuggIL_0uJQjXfzsYkfCDLvQu2N9/s320/143-games-m.gif" width="320" height="320" /></a></div>
<br>
suddenly a shadowy figure appeared on the balcony. it was mrs morris.
<p>
“what are you doing, porterfield,” she cried. “who are these people?”
<p>
“why, just a couple of travelers, mrs morris, “ porterfield answered with an attempt at a hearty laugh, “a couple of weary travelers seeking shelter from - “
<p>
“you can’t fool me, porterfield! you brought them here to murder me!”
<p>
“ha, ha! now, mrs morris - “
<p>
“i know your sly ways, porterfield! you don’t fool me! you brought them here to murder me!,” mrs morris screamed. “help! help ! <i>murder! murder!</i>”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpe0me7k5PWS7LpviwnF5JVWThvo4Ce1amukFTKw1EmxW5AK-I0UALOb3qGz-RIauqb8rotRCjbeJraQlCdNpn5r8aOiwYX3DUZxvN8zeKH8Qor_tQiS-34DRZSpCwelcKatQ4O1evNgu/s1600/143-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpe0me7k5PWS7LpviwnF5JVWThvo4Ce1amukFTKw1EmxW5AK-I0UALOb3qGz-RIauqb8rotRCjbeJraQlCdNpn5r8aOiwYX3DUZxvN8zeKH8Qor_tQiS-34DRZSpCwelcKatQ4O1evNgu/s1600/143-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-17.html"><font color = "red">part 17</font></a></center>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2v_Y3Pbiims" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
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rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-52004153793687260622016-10-05T11:19:00.000-07:002016-10-14T09:55:55.580-07:00games, part 15<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-14.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<table bgcolor = "gray" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXE4kTuQhUnKMCQhHwMvop_HHTyIp9wmRq-pDy9357P0NMoVemQadrWOaniGlHVBnfCKOEkqNubXkJSquX4lHJUjioC9IDikVvpokIWN9Frud060pcHl2KWuOYykjl1o580fMLC5jjP6A/s1600/142-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXE4kTuQhUnKMCQhHwMvop_HHTyIp9wmRq-pDy9357P0NMoVemQadrWOaniGlHVBnfCKOEkqNubXkJSquX4lHJUjioC9IDikVvpokIWN9Frud060pcHl2KWuOYykjl1o580fMLC5jjP6A/s1600/142-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<font color = "black"><i><b>“ha, ha!” exclaimed the professor, as they were past the barricade and speeding up again. “we fooled him! we fooled him good!”</b></i>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQckoK1P1gaC2gJ9ALKjJU8v6UTT1ZXPzpoAywOnnLlGmUX0x-tWedzstN0JCLWIQEzmQzHm7bBEaMYaxoxZ13tCZNU2TQ60TNgojM997EXfFsCPOzQZwyOJnWgXy9bEvQtUI5u0kSVoDu/s1600/142-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQckoK1P1gaC2gJ9ALKjJU8v6UTT1ZXPzpoAywOnnLlGmUX0x-tWedzstN0JCLWIQEzmQzHm7bBEaMYaxoxZ13tCZNU2TQ60TNgojM997EXfFsCPOzQZwyOJnWgXy9bEvQtUI5u0kSVoDu/s1600/142-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
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<a href = " http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue">bob</font></a> had been picked up by crazy people before, so the <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-10.html "><font color = "red">professor’s outburst</font></a> did not bother him too much.
<p>
and bob of course was crazy himself - certified as such by booby hatch doctors in four states - so who was he to complain?
<p>
just another day or night among the lost souls running and crawling and driving over the surface of the spinning earth.
<p>
what did bother bob a little was the wind they were suddenly heading into, wind which threatened to blow the old packard off the road.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDkxQYzjd1UG04ysEaOpzeHx4WAO43LQe8W1YKdBEb9_nmgT4iBLl1-L5Xkzwqk0Lw8Oud-f7PEpp6vOQYWiWmB0UUXiDmmmSSECK5yp79t9CGtQxCTXQdGYbAxRPNjPmZ94u-JXnpjdG/s1600/142-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDkxQYzjd1UG04ysEaOpzeHx4WAO43LQe8W1YKdBEb9_nmgT4iBLl1-L5Xkzwqk0Lw8Oud-f7PEpp6vOQYWiWmB0UUXiDmmmSSECK5yp79t9CGtQxCTXQdGYbAxRPNjPmZ94u-JXnpjdG/s1600/142-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
at least there were no other cars in sight, to crash into.
<p>
and bob could see the professor was concentrating on his driving and keeping the car on the road.
<p>
the professor had stopped telling his story.
<p>
which bob had already forgotten every word of anyway.
<p>
bob did not want to distract the professor so he kept his mouth shut as the car headed into the wind down the highway.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YqjqClvFvTPkQML9JW6fxUpuCC1AvH6HRTd63ltYkzzvaUMaeToeb-37nrfka4Z3WBY6Il5gcATLOc3CL__gxn64EGOP_3vEdEC4K0dzD6seImcY3aElIgOu4_uWoTBFbMEOM9dLJNEi/s1600/142-games-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YqjqClvFvTPkQML9JW6fxUpuCC1AvH6HRTd63ltYkzzvaUMaeToeb-37nrfka4Z3WBY6Il5gcATLOc3CL__gxn64EGOP_3vEdEC4K0dzD6seImcY3aElIgOu4_uWoTBFbMEOM9dLJNEi/s1600/142-games-d-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
what was it the trooper had said back at the barricade? about the storm? bob had not really been paying much attention and probably would not remembered even if he had been.
<p>
remembering stuff was not bob’s road game.
<p>
at least, thought bob, it has not started raining.
<p>
and then the rain came.
<p>
driving sheets of wind-driven rain, covering the windshield and overpowering the feeble windshield wipers.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQ5UJ-cnQniny-QXX7HxcbGMYZMGPMkgqtKxZxdNDTpmyzy0jas9FXZbv3R3VcDoCwraZVlzKrpv2wX1en4fCP0fnf8baP7ZAK2xX5nmZMAU0gUdRtNZEsWv1TYu9XJrgA1gzmaG8Duc3/s1600/142-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQ5UJ-cnQniny-QXX7HxcbGMYZMGPMkgqtKxZxdNDTpmyzy0jas9FXZbv3R3VcDoCwraZVlzKrpv2wX1en4fCP0fnf8baP7ZAK2xX5nmZMAU0gUdRtNZEsWv1TYu9XJrgA1gzmaG8Duc3/s1600/142-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
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damn, thought bob, i shouldn’t have thought that about the rain. i made it happen.
<p>
it had happened to bob many times before. he thought about something - and then it happened!
<p>
the human mind is a terrible thing, and bob should have known better, after all his experiences with his own mind.
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of course he was not going to tell the professor what he had done.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHyubB-lfzA9SPJRM_up-Ol4cpIDYxBfnezDV7hER8iY6TLZQf2ieyYhfhdBROM46O75IkK9ze_GPIV0inwNZGmYlK-vOa40HhAXNO5A8mIeTHD10f221V9SWSxAYF-o6_l3AdeYx6wPHu/s1600/142-games-e_bak.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHyubB-lfzA9SPJRM_up-Ol4cpIDYxBfnezDV7hER8iY6TLZQf2ieyYhfhdBROM46O75IkK9ze_GPIV0inwNZGmYlK-vOa40HhAXNO5A8mIeTHD10f221V9SWSxAYF-o6_l3AdeYx6wPHu/s1600/142-games-e_bak.gif" /></a></div>
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the rain was harder now, and bob was a little bit scared.
<p>
should he suggest that the professor pull over? it was hard to see what “over” was - it could be a deep ditch that would send them tumbling over, it could be a river. and if they just stopped in the road there might be somebody right behind them, though that was unlikely.
<p>
maybe if the professor pulled over real slow, bob could get out and see where they were?
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bC_uTq7d8Gdy0yzNSvV6uujXfaMEcJ7FBLxMHSzJ2LMIoT7pO3jx1Xs80k_8X6envHo6jIoTbMl1cuyRFVQ0GqnZPry1RqtaDhyphenhyphenswdCctP_dVdH3afPYFouQcSMUCWNVgxRMlS-q1i84/s1600/142-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bC_uTq7d8Gdy0yzNSvV6uujXfaMEcJ7FBLxMHSzJ2LMIoT7pO3jx1Xs80k_8X6envHo6jIoTbMl1cuyRFVQ0GqnZPry1RqtaDhyphenhyphenswdCctP_dVdH3afPYFouQcSMUCWNVgxRMlS-q1i84/s1600/142-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
but these thoughts of bob’s were interrupted by the professor laughing and shouting, “what fun! what glorious fun!”
<p>
he is even crazier than me, bob thought.
<p>
bob gave up. he decided to just see what happened, as he had so many times before.
<p>
they kept on. the rain and wind got worse, and the car started to skid a couple of times, but the professor got it under control and actually slowed down some.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9k814j8lHzVhglNbpItTxUkTT9jjQtDs1tm-eF513KvtHBiimgCs3PpiZR_v7_cuYOCTXDzL83iSZ4pihr0EPTtGwCECgEQL-UxomnfEfzt1AsOoKU1RzkeRKuzg_T45JQpWFhYgu4hPT/s1600/142-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9k814j8lHzVhglNbpItTxUkTT9jjQtDs1tm-eF513KvtHBiimgCs3PpiZR_v7_cuYOCTXDzL83iSZ4pihr0EPTtGwCECgEQL-UxomnfEfzt1AsOoKU1RzkeRKuzg_T45JQpWFhYgu4hPT/s1600/142-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“look for some lights!” the professor shouted.
<p>
that’s something, bob thought, at least he wants to stop. “do you know where you are?”
<p>
the professor did not seem to hear him, so bob shouted louder, “do you know where we are?”
<p>
“no,” the professor answered, “but there has to be an old house along the road somewhere. there always is!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB99WJiTG9GcXXRg39VSy9VUQ1O7pqJV0b4YDBWaJioapCwN9qoxCFNwU7n7BZY7fkT-XZL_UXUhhQNMu2q4F5UeSnBVggFusJwF1hAXRfhG6fl__FSI1MRGRtCRJNrAHZnTU6urpJtj3/s1600/142-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB99WJiTG9GcXXRg39VSy9VUQ1O7pqJV0b4YDBWaJioapCwN9qoxCFNwU7n7BZY7fkT-XZL_UXUhhQNMu2q4F5UeSnBVggFusJwF1hAXRfhG6fl__FSI1MRGRtCRJNrAHZnTU6urpJtj3/s1600/142-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob did not reply, and the professor continued, “barry won’t let me down! there will be an old dark house along the road here somewhere.”
<p>
barry? “who is barry?” bob shouted.
<p>
“my <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-4.html "><font color = "blue">friend</font></a> i was telling you about!”
<p>
“oh.” bob had forgotten everything the professor said.
<p>
“he rules the world now!” the professor said. “he was working on a secret project and he stumbled on the key to the universe - to reality! so he rules the world now!”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6BSCuz6E1EFdsLPQG00kASTVZbOOx46MA0OOfTiwHYkZLLoSpq6lKl-XVo4hyr5HwK0ACXXCAew69Mm4Y1tWUlvTuq86lPbox6qK3wLmiCxlKzEgplmQbM3aKkzSAsk9lmu5ee9SW18D/s1600/142-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6BSCuz6E1EFdsLPQG00kASTVZbOOx46MA0OOfTiwHYkZLLoSpq6lKl-XVo4hyr5HwK0ACXXCAew69Mm4Y1tWUlvTuq86lPbox6qK3wLmiCxlKzEgplmQbM3aKkzSAsk9lmu5ee9SW18D/s1600/142-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob just nodded. he was getting too confused now to be scared.
<p>
“and he’s still my pal, even though he stole my girl, “ the professor added, in an almost normal voice.
<p>
bob had an idea. a good idea.
<p>
i will say i see a light, he thought. even if i really don’t. that way he will stop. and then i can just get away.
<p>
i will get soaked but i have been soaked before. at least i probably won’t be dead.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKt7mYg3fuvQPkZhZhuep3gR5e6PK0a5qhyphenhyphenLkVkZN8rVlf0lwFSW8M87QJc9KpzeWk9hWAWz28beT_H8v-VPl7WGS-VnK0Ymd-Y0goIcAmG6xS1om8lEtUWNv__tMwodCGhnEPeB2ecKdl/s1600/142-games-j-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKt7mYg3fuvQPkZhZhuep3gR5e6PK0a5qhyphenhyphenLkVkZN8rVlf0lwFSW8M87QJc9KpzeWk9hWAWz28beT_H8v-VPl7WGS-VnK0Ymd-Y0goIcAmG6xS1om8lEtUWNv__tMwodCGhnEPeB2ecKdl/s1600/142-games-j-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“hey! i think i see a light! “ bob shouted.
<p>
it worked. the professor slowed down and came to an almost smooth stop.
<p>
with a shudder of relief, bob pushed the door open against the wind.
<p>
he slipped out of the car, and looked around.
<p>
and there - about five hundred yards away - was a light! not too bright, but definitely a light.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALT1dGw5us3s5w-DQ2WDcWQXYWOguN-yivgLiddOAp6bpTTBokmIZDrmfWR5_r1oGtHUrSYhcRa3Jt8hX-iWN3sWhcVclxk1n_H5vVkQXdZJz8XfLtbuSHgApNo5LxKrB0seD3MWCOUoH/s1600/142-games-k-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhALT1dGw5us3s5w-DQ2WDcWQXYWOguN-yivgLiddOAp6bpTTBokmIZDrmfWR5_r1oGtHUrSYhcRa3Jt8hX-iWN3sWhcVclxk1n_H5vVkQXdZJz8XfLtbuSHgApNo5LxKrB0seD3MWCOUoH/s1600/142-games-k-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
bob moved away from the car, squinting into the rain.
<p>
it was a house all right, up on a hill. an enormous old house, but with just one lit window, barely visible on the top floor.
<p>
the professor got out of the car, after moving it a little further off the road.
<p>
“i can’t see a damned thing,” he told bob. “either with my glasses on or without them. you will have to lead me.”
<p>
it didn’t bother you when you were driving, bob thought, but did not say so.
<p>
bob took the professor’s arm, and they moved slowly toward the hill, looking for a path up it.
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV-aL2GGt9zRI80ZjoAfCcFf9b15NX8_qBv0hRHYAvFlhVQNdtAwLLBbPnfX-4k4yDB3RxUPPTtHGKuo2DNCsmXpJ6eiTaYPD88CAsmAnK9bU3-qajSjjBZltep70N9beU6j1Zl7_pRvq/s1600/142-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRV-aL2GGt9zRI80ZjoAfCcFf9b15NX8_qBv0hRHYAvFlhVQNdtAwLLBbPnfX-4k4yDB3RxUPPTtHGKuo2DNCsmXpJ6eiTaYPD88CAsmAnK9bU3-qajSjjBZltep70N9beU6j1Zl7_pRvq/s1600/142-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
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damn, thought <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-12.html "><font color = "red">porterfield</font></a>, this is really bad, as he guided the ancient bentley around the bends in the road back to the old morris house.
<p>
the rain had hit just as he left old burley’s general store. at least burley had been busy enough with other customers that porterfield did not have to stand around politely listening to his interminable gossip and chatter.
<p>
maybe he should not have gone into simmonsville at all, but there was no use crying about it now.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0ew3ZYzGb6E9O-s0zRt4iMbLI7phj16f0R7-hoATkTSOVqfPpX_G24ORFxlVUoMI8QtvY9bphhLJVNvXIbQl1FWGZhYG8klsAql_jbS5O6jAdfdoN8Sslp9sjzhodk3AMbo9KrE-LNGD/s1600/142-games-m-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-0ew3ZYzGb6E9O-s0zRt4iMbLI7phj16f0R7-hoATkTSOVqfPpX_G24ORFxlVUoMI8QtvY9bphhLJVNvXIbQl1FWGZhYG8klsAql_jbS5O6jAdfdoN8Sslp9sjzhodk3AMbo9KrE-LNGD/s1600/142-games-m-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
and at least he had the wind at his back, and there were no other cars on the road that he could see.
<p>
he took each turn very carefully, in case there was a stalled or flooded car just around it.
<p>
he got back safely.
<p>
as he reached the sloping driveway, he noticed a car parked - abandoned? - just beyond the hill the old house stood.on.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUgmn7khBnkdB8Le1MP8J6XpYgbDCF60ENI-JYbICdnkC7QspQ4DS0MaT8Q89h_IjDmTipWiHhnB8sMtqL5yenXfhzFeY_RB2sNqDs1022qLEClUgyWnEZ1515OFZOJLovJJOHQXquV7Jz/s1600/142-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUgmn7khBnkdB8Le1MP8J6XpYgbDCF60ENI-JYbICdnkC7QspQ4DS0MaT8Q89h_IjDmTipWiHhnB8sMtqL5yenXfhzFeY_RB2sNqDs1022qLEClUgyWnEZ1515OFZOJLovJJOHQXquV7Jz/s1600/142-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
he got up the hill and parked as close to the house as he could get .
<p>
before unloading the supplies he had gone to town for, he looked down the hill and saw a couple of figures approaching. a taller one seemed to be helping a shorter one along.
<p>
what is this? porterfield thought. i will make short work of these rascals. probably a couple of good for nothings using the storm as an excuse to impose on honest citizens and steal the silverware.
<p>
but as they got closer, suddenly a beautiful thought entered his brain.
<p>
maybe, he thought, i have been waiting for these gentry for years. maybe they are the pawns of fate, come to save me.</font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0DCRRU8ME7vToQ8-tmzhC9-KtzIqxPllahI6y07AMuEs3A-24BgczI7Nb4cijFMd4t9c8zHP9QW6DKOm2oX9VFaYNoFbEBLSUEV_SSiAgpq9hPXBGqRK0ViZKJHJ6_LMNO5Gx6shw_VP/s1600/142-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0DCRRU8ME7vToQ8-tmzhC9-KtzIqxPllahI6y07AMuEs3A-24BgczI7Nb4cijFMd4t9c8zHP9QW6DKOm2oX9VFaYNoFbEBLSUEV_SSiAgpq9hPXBGqRK0ViZKJHJ6_LMNO5Gx6shw_VP/s1600/142-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-16.html"><font color = "red">part 16 </font></a></center>
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</br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9SrxdS_6UvY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-76337417318344544132016-09-21T09:39:00.000-07:002016-10-05T11:20:29.429-07:00games, part 14<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-13.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<table bgcolor = "#004e4a" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUqPNOobAWV82v2kyMGXL3mVv_pgVz7SO8Y9AAtM9SOVGm0V1yto_-Bkoab6hzFxC63KTxgyN9TnL26u0p-0Zyp1mXpQeGrKeO3hK7dpdksR2T54OgqcwxFjPvwVhrqXF4IUGP0PpKiXb/s1600/141-games-00.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "300" width = "400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUqPNOobAWV82v2kyMGXL3mVv_pgVz7SO8Y9AAtM9SOVGm0V1yto_-Bkoab6hzFxC63KTxgyN9TnL26u0p-0Zyp1mXpQeGrKeO3hK7dpdksR2T54OgqcwxFjPvwVhrqXF4IUGP0PpKiXb/s1600/141-games-00.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaAqgpOvp2ksqJXPCTzuDaILVzOBeGLzXG5cOZHOiijjB4yhHpyhRNFLnO08l5yX6m5ypYr3DlhFDcmmz_Xliq1aopNKIGCYco_L4UwVWVkS9TScR94F8j3J07ndvN1wwjEM41LBhAb62/s1600/141-games-a-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaAqgpOvp2ksqJXPCTzuDaILVzOBeGLzXG5cOZHOiijjB4yhHpyhRNFLnO08l5yX6m5ypYr3DlhFDcmmz_Xliq1aopNKIGCYco_L4UwVWVkS9TScR94F8j3J07ndvN1wwjEM41LBhAb62/s1600/141-games-a-alt.gif" /></a></div>
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<font color = "black">a couple of large raindrops hit <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html "><font color = "blue">hal</font></a> on the back of the head as he rang the doorbell of the boarding house, to be let back in after his walk around the block.
<p>
he had already forgotten the curious sight of jenny letting a couple of women in by the side door.
<p>
he waited a few seconds. he started to press the bell again, but the door suddenly opened and <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-7.html"><font color = "red">brenda</font></a> the landlady stepped aside and let him in.
<p>
she did not say anything but quickly closed the door behind him as a few raindrops followed him inside.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFH998QyaUqoWSCxfG1FvbuEAP7AU3ehsayffcIayZ1XFRqhyg5ptHAK88i7SSqykapJNvIaQ57wcNvceIRL15pHq0uwglb6g9vgImi8qc076Fv-PFnWc8Mst7Imjm56D8cvToT2dKdro2/s1600/141-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFH998QyaUqoWSCxfG1FvbuEAP7AU3ehsayffcIayZ1XFRqhyg5ptHAK88i7SSqykapJNvIaQ57wcNvceIRL15pHq0uwglb6g9vgImi8qc076Fv-PFnWc8Mst7Imjm56D8cvToT2dKdro2/s1600/141-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the entrance and front room were dark, but hal could see a light on in what he knew was the kitchen.
<p>
though she had not invited him to do so, hal followed brenda into the kitchen,
<p>
there was no one else in the kitchen. there was a mug of tea on the table. and an ashtray with a cigarette burning in it, and a book.
<p>
hal sat down and made himself at home. “it’s quiet here, “ he said.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxYz-jikf53QJrwYzutfvp4FoUrLrPMvwre_ewTFMKJ1j32kXCKX-EQQ56FnT3gI5g7fpBFXeBM2X1HZXAM5lJIjhjl021PlYRohsUN1ntCgyPL_QmPPA035_XYoQWHpdXkhJ46rJINSf/s1600/141-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxYz-jikf53QJrwYzutfvp4FoUrLrPMvwre_ewTFMKJ1j32kXCKX-EQQ56FnT3gI5g7fpBFXeBM2X1HZXAM5lJIjhjl021PlYRohsUN1ntCgyPL_QmPPA035_XYoQWHpdXkhJ46rJINSf/s1600/141-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, you mentioned that before.” brenda sat down and knocked the ashes off the cigarette and took a puff of it. “i told you, the guests are mostly working people, they need their sleep.”
<p>
“i’m just saying,” hal persisted. “you sure you got a full house here?”
<p>
“close enough.” what does he care? brenda thought. what would he do if the place was empty? tie me and jenny up and go through the place for - what, some jars full of pennies? the pies in the icebox?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtSHD0_Xzbe5-lLpnTzdcANYoPuvTCJa2O8HAvaqaxFA-BSmxBRLnzKTXykuRZwDBjqbF4NTV-ceIfXWMghMlupFxylAALYeTenNBT5NDPnJZhALEysqgosXIJKS0dIpAce-g6Qofb6CJm/s1600/141-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtSHD0_Xzbe5-lLpnTzdcANYoPuvTCJa2O8HAvaqaxFA-BSmxBRLnzKTXykuRZwDBjqbF4NTV-ceIfXWMghMlupFxylAALYeTenNBT5NDPnJZhALEysqgosXIJKS0dIpAce-g6Qofb6CJm/s1600/141-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
and then it hit her - could this stupid punk have an idea about <a href = " http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-6.html"><font color = "blue">the money in the basement</font></a>?
<p>
how? who could have known, or suspected? and if there was anybody out there who had traced her after all this time. wouldn’t they have come themselves?
<p>
even as she considered these reassuring thoughts, another part of her brain knew that strange things could happen in the world of yeggs and stickup men that she had left behind. a slip here, a lucky break there, and a punk like this could get the best of the hardest customer.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3KQoJsmbUbGQuA344f6jO-lmYz_XPbvc3c5w5rJpcqsNfcXSukacemJIs5NHPkw5ZvYO9ZOqd6htSXvgt5MeDq2N4I_BVKs-Tx2lo0lwwA4KAQZCK9e0858c8Db-D8y8L9mphOaQr2kF/s1600/141-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt3KQoJsmbUbGQuA344f6jO-lmYz_XPbvc3c5w5rJpcqsNfcXSukacemJIs5NHPkw5ZvYO9ZOqd6htSXvgt5MeDq2N4I_BVKs-Tx2lo0lwwA4KAQZCK9e0858c8Db-D8y8L9mphOaQr2kF/s1600/141-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
brenda was confident of her ability to read people, and she had pegged hal for a complete moron. looking at his stupid face through a puff of smoke, she felt again she was right.
<p>
hal pointed to the book on the table. it was a library book - <i>the milk of human kindness</i>, by elizabeth ferrars.
<p>
“reading a book. huh?”
<p>
“yes.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUTMKyJmBZCZBrieLfWJ9EdMfVjIyn6XIBpuq01rl-4f-6Vtth7rDwWWttl1AfqXndcV3K3s9g17RgZBFAO9gklFgUtafqsR_mrm1lg1La69VZPMij4zmwXz6RnWEgyaxX79ULv2tBD3W/s1600/141-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUTMKyJmBZCZBrieLfWJ9EdMfVjIyn6XIBpuq01rl-4f-6Vtth7rDwWWttl1AfqXndcV3K3s9g17RgZBFAO9gklFgUtafqsR_mrm1lg1La69VZPMij4zmwXz6RnWEgyaxX79ULv2tBD3W/s1600/141-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“any good?’
<p>
“pretty good.”
<p>
“what’s it about?”
<p>
“it’s a mystery - a murder mystery.”
<p>
“a murder mystery, huh?” hal stared at the closed book. “ where a little old lady gets her head bashed in by the maid? and a detective with a mustache smokes a pipe and solves the case?”
<p>
“i haven’t got that far yet.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEEoGdjfLYsDjx8Cao2d_vBj4hyDrWXZF6JDclh4xFfZAjAG-fGgibxDXAbzr5qZV1OnfvRrbSx5NlyNoCTMytiIQqpwSNNmUMIXoy-TlZZl4FsqgCFSySq94bclC69vn_GO8_-ZSoCkj/s1600/141-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEEoGdjfLYsDjx8Cao2d_vBj4hyDrWXZF6JDclh4xFfZAjAG-fGgibxDXAbzr5qZV1OnfvRrbSx5NlyNoCTMytiIQqpwSNNmUMIXoy-TlZZl4FsqgCFSySq94bclC69vn_GO8_-ZSoCkj/s1600/141-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“books like that,” said hal, shaking his head, “they don’t know nothing about real violence.”
<p>
“you don’t think so?”
<p>
“i know about real violence,” hal continued. “i seen things you wouldn’t believe. things you wouldn’t believe, sitting here in this cozy kitchen.”
<p>
“you don’t say so?” brenda assumed he was talking about wartime experiences, real or imagined. she wasn’t interested.
<p>
but hal, perhaps sensing her disdain, changed the subject. “say, about that pie that the little girl was giving her spiel about -“
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUe5NSef4YRjHZRvecLd1y-AlY_we18gObh4dVr_-Lq30Shos8AqvNsyCv-muL4kfjS-zTG1eKWqnOYTU0Zuj077O6XRispL_mIRR4riTz5CH37W-8bD8Cp1iOVEWmkO5uwzVnCR-IouRr/s1600/141-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUe5NSef4YRjHZRvecLd1y-AlY_we18gObh4dVr_-Lq30Shos8AqvNsyCv-muL4kfjS-zTG1eKWqnOYTU0Zuj077O6XRispL_mIRR4riTz5CH37W-8bD8Cp1iOVEWmkO5uwzVnCR-IouRr/s1600/141-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
“what about it? you want some?”
<p>
“sure, if you don’t mind. i mean, i was going to have some in the morning anyway - “
<p>
“i’ll get you a piece of pie.” brenda put her cigarette out in the ashtray and started to get up. “you want some tea with it?”
<p>
“no, that would just keep me awake. i’ll take a glass of water though.”
<p>
“coming right up.” brenda stood up. “i’ll get you some and then i’m going to bed. what kind do you want?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMWTJx9tK_2YD8S5qc8GP71HtpCGKFEYNEnvJcaq_tVr5zoRTyO-QYdwRS1Wsnh9UVsP80vjGe3ytPxxtNJpDsYv3vE0ZQoMrHCSxxX-xSTk05dtSh-mmY3zbU8hEsYPC6HXwJh446Uu8V/s1600/141-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMWTJx9tK_2YD8S5qc8GP71HtpCGKFEYNEnvJcaq_tVr5zoRTyO-QYdwRS1Wsnh9UVsP80vjGe3ytPxxtNJpDsYv3vE0ZQoMrHCSxxX-xSTk05dtSh-mmY3zbU8hEsYPC6HXwJh446Uu8V/s1600/141-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“um - what kind have you got?”
<p>
“right now i got apple, blueberry , pumpkin - “
<p>
“pumpkin! aargh! i ain’t eating no pumpkin pie!”
<p>
“all right, do you want apple or blueberry then?”
<p>
“nothing personal, you could make the best pumpkin pie in five states but it’s still the most disgusting thing anybody ever ate.”
<p>
“apple or blueberry?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPol9_2mftkG3ypeWyo_cF4U_X5l4C6wOFtZOQYkY3cYxxAyfJEGIL5xRF9-4zRYAYdM0d-ksBvaBQfXlSGHBrfa9XOsMwI2TBdABfuiwE9d9i6IS_LJB1iCB-NJ2ZNJHYEXZ__OIGT94L/s1600/141-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPol9_2mftkG3ypeWyo_cF4U_X5l4C6wOFtZOQYkY3cYxxAyfJEGIL5xRF9-4zRYAYdM0d-ksBvaBQfXlSGHBrfa9XOsMwI2TBdABfuiwE9d9i6IS_LJB1iCB-NJ2ZNJHYEXZ__OIGT94L/s1600/141-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i’d take a dead raccoon out of a coyote’s mouth and eat it before i ate pumpkin pie.”
<p>
“apple or blueberry? i’m going to bed, sport, i haven’t got all night.”
<p>
“apple.”
<p>
brenda went over to the icebox and took out a pie.
<p>
while she was cutting him a slice, hal shifted in his chair and looked back at the parlor. “mind if i sit up a while?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjII4ozrmb4QyURRZMdayFcYlOfZU3Z5wM7iu3a_etowmh_dtoiMWLUwtvNf9LV3TYXkBZMsrdXHUwqilTiqXfuKKoo3zgrdaUrL-cR8fLVzS0b8maAdyEzwq_CYwHXhfoIwjfNPvqUIWuB/s1600/141-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjII4ozrmb4QyURRZMdayFcYlOfZU3Z5wM7iu3a_etowmh_dtoiMWLUwtvNf9LV3TYXkBZMsrdXHUwqilTiqXfuKKoo3zgrdaUrL-cR8fLVzS0b8maAdyEzwq_CYwHXhfoIwjfNPvqUIWuB/s1600/141-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“suit yourself. just make sure you turn the light off when you go upstairs.”
<p>
hal nodded. “can i turn the radio on?’’
<p>
“as long as you keep it low.” brenda turned the tap on and filled a glass with water and brought it over to hal with the pie and a fork.
<p>
“say, you’re pretty easy to get along with, “ hal told her. “i been in places where such is not always the case.”
<p>
“it’s good business.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jIeo9r8UwHZbz0gpLofO8-0qAKIhoSWJkKUKf3uLpJLX6t5zgXSz3gXhSdwq83RPu3RLoGX1zIuAfvqfpMiA3kLsz-rxay3ZCViTzmjfIhTPbmMHqZTnWyccWvmVCVEJ6oAq7vRPaBYj/s1600/141-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jIeo9r8UwHZbz0gpLofO8-0qAKIhoSWJkKUKf3uLpJLX6t5zgXSz3gXhSdwq83RPu3RLoGX1zIuAfvqfpMiA3kLsz-rxay3ZCViTzmjfIhTPbmMHqZTnWyccWvmVCVEJ6oAq7vRPaBYj/s1600/141-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“i guess. it pays to be nice to be nice to people.”
<p>
“sometimes,” brenda agreed.
<p>
“you got to be nice to people,” hal warmed to his theme. “but at the same time, you can’t let people take advantage of you.”
<p>
“that’s so true.”
<p>
“a lot of things are like that. you got to find a balance. my uncle joe used to say, you got to gamble but you can’t be too careful.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBhqP23tTI-rK4p2ySRkpBWrW5awPCtTNBaXrQ9PmHTRupmvBZrS2LPvmHNLx58IzSx82D0sD-WDN15UNc9ZhR7cLZpeScL0iJgGjnrj_waAI-1i3HdJyBmVT2TZhbubGTz0u8Yf5ukOo/s1600/141-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBhqP23tTI-rK4p2ySRkpBWrW5awPCtTNBaXrQ9PmHTRupmvBZrS2LPvmHNLx58IzSx82D0sD-WDN15UNc9ZhR7cLZpeScL0iJgGjnrj_waAI-1i3HdJyBmVT2TZhbubGTz0u8Yf5ukOo/s1600/141-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“on that wise note, i’ll leave you.” brenda made her escape from the kitchen and closed the door behind her.
<p>
more of a chatterbox than i would have expected, brenda thought. at the same time she felt reassured that he was just what he seemed and knew nothing about her and the money in the basement.
<p>
did she hear something in the basement? what the - ? and then she knew - it was jenny letting her <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-11.html "><font color = "red">bum friends</font></a> camp out - camp in - again!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg6rqXGcHVxIJoLoI7Rb2vPIiOBMZs9T52B3ocGnMZ4kLeaufLacc6KQWqKRfOp9XmIayfZ5vVak-TtvzEa2kULKEgeYHhn_idkI1AZujOuNuff174hwlDz14rv9KxOvcasetrVBfbknf/s1600/141-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg6rqXGcHVxIJoLoI7Rb2vPIiOBMZs9T52B3ocGnMZ4kLeaufLacc6KQWqKRfOp9XmIayfZ5vVak-TtvzEa2kULKEgeYHhn_idkI1AZujOuNuff174hwlDz14rv9KxOvcasetrVBfbknf/s1600/141-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
jenny thought she was so sly. brenda sighed. why couldn’t she have friends her own age? well, she, brenda, was not going to do anything about it tonight, and wake up the whole house.
<p>
what there was of the “whole house”. for brenda had not been entirely truthful wth hal and <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-8.html"><font color = "red">cindy</font></a> in telling them that the house was “just about” filled up.
<p>
in fact, besides hal and his two friends, there were only two other residents in the house at the time.
<p>
which was the main reason she had let hal and company in in the first place.
<p>
brenda started up the stairs. as she did, the house shook slightly and the little window on the staircase suddenly filled with rain.</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReJG2Vb-8sHyanYmJQSRCBGWzMBnAj9lkdq635A4lIRAWmpVy9EnH1CeCCrCvk06HNw6L1QQjHNPqEaMPT7DfPLxJvJxM-0AxrOgYEJFo8MNC79Zd6uTeVdj0_kVG0EOFMg7n_QtVXinr/s1600/141-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReJG2Vb-8sHyanYmJQSRCBGWzMBnAj9lkdq635A4lIRAWmpVy9EnH1CeCCrCvk06HNw6L1QQjHNPqEaMPT7DfPLxJvJxM-0AxrOgYEJFo8MNC79Zd6uTeVdj0_kVG0EOFMg7n_QtVXinr/s1600/141-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/10/games-part-15.html"><font color = "red">part 15 </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>
<br>
<br>
<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hM7rG4f3yFw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>
rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-11298734688765270282016-09-16T06:24:00.000-07:002016-09-16T06:24:07.592-07:00the call<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "red">fred flynn</font>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "blue"> roy dismas </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the december 1947 issue of <i><font color = "green">desperate space stories</font></i>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "#49bdef" width = 520><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhU8JRTovIPvV8U0fYKMD2SauegZp3hHfXpZYiX6WRCuxJN0-ngu5NcBztiPBiKwz1dWBMs23AD5GzfGbf59fNNK_8OmRAKIV6kFnYYtsDy5uKV_Lkx5534D0-PZqqEEYQpHWFPgWb46HO/s1600/140-call-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhU8JRTovIPvV8U0fYKMD2SauegZp3hHfXpZYiX6WRCuxJN0-ngu5NcBztiPBiKwz1dWBMs23AD5GzfGbf59fNNK_8OmRAKIV6kFnYYtsDy5uKV_Lkx5534D0-PZqqEEYQpHWFPgWb46HO/s1600/140-call-0.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<br>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgam8Wu40rHCdVV8bvRoQ7Hd6GDr4TbI_uBrYvnpD-Rq7QHzf5jnayFybHTqFn0zTkFCDGljOqB54wBJXlvydD27ZIUmATfbAD-gyegKSqEqB25Sjqd-SATdaOLPK8V7v561IiMkF52T-UV/s1600/140-call-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgam8Wu40rHCdVV8bvRoQ7Hd6GDr4TbI_uBrYvnpD-Rq7QHzf5jnayFybHTqFn0zTkFCDGljOqB54wBJXlvydD27ZIUmATfbAD-gyegKSqEqB25Sjqd-SATdaOLPK8V7v561IiMkF52T-UV/s1600/140-call-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "black">he sat alone in his office, staring out his big window at the universe.
<p>
it was almost over. he had won.
<p>
there was one little detail to take care of.
<p>
and then he would be complete master - of everything and everybody.
<p>
sending the security police on this detail had not been as exciting as sending his army and space navy against the combined might of the united planets and the fifth empire, but it was something that had to be done.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bioRBYM4vfxVkopoMi5L38CjNMSMRRsrN0yEoK1zYFNdTvPIWIogFZrFWWo5q9xoPXjZsyg1CVHLkcL4oUoe7xvd1o7V8HGeYnnxClVRJdIYxQNC8U87HcBtpXHT2zLM1K2Q-ksmiKPr/s1600/140-call-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bioRBYM4vfxVkopoMi5L38CjNMSMRRsrN0yEoK1zYFNdTvPIWIogFZrFWWo5q9xoPXjZsyg1CVHLkcL4oUoe7xvd1o7V8HGeYnnxClVRJdIYxQNC8U87HcBtpXHT2zLM1K2Q-ksmiKPr/s1600/140-call-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the desk was empty except for the single blue telephone.
<p>
the phone rang.
<p>
that was quick, he thought.
<p>
he picked up the phone, expecting to hear the voice of colonel m———, of the security police.
<p>
but there was a different voice.
<p>
“hello,” said the voice.
<p>
“hello,” he managed to say.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiP5Nze5NE3_dsllYz38Q5qlnvYKFNli0IqhIOdoQFqQGLoYe003Cy3ng_gv8T_rhth8DUam1LWgyhNaqBk8W1SBLA_nFvcUF0RY9Kg6zqWCDMbzKwvkYkOQueneKbRpEvOCbtQ96f36X/s1600/140-call-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSiP5Nze5NE3_dsllYz38Q5qlnvYKFNli0IqhIOdoQFqQGLoYe003Cy3ng_gv8T_rhth8DUam1LWgyhNaqBk8W1SBLA_nFvcUF0RY9Kg6zqWCDMbzKwvkYkOQueneKbRpEvOCbtQ96f36X/s1600/140-call-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“they have come for me,” said voice. “they are outside.”
<p>
he tried to answer but could not.
<p>
“it’s all right,” said the voice. “i understand. you have to do this.”
<p>
“i - i’m sorry,” he said.
<p>
the voice laughed. “of course you are not sorry. but i understand. i just heard the elevator stop. i have to go now.”
<p>
he heard the click on the other end.
<p>
he fumbled the blue phone back into its cradle.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-Mb-geswQElXn23SW7c8vRFeyRzhlE1yrCT1YK9iYaLlz_56ZXRG9Z_xCdaK4k5N82DJUqC5QxwS9xCzdDiZks7xfjVM9Iln-Us9kfF4O5EBGSbUkjPG9-8hYo2Il7jDfzWDWB62onhw/s1600/140-call-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-Mb-geswQElXn23SW7c8vRFeyRzhlE1yrCT1YK9iYaLlz_56ZXRG9Z_xCdaK4k5N82DJUqC5QxwS9xCzdDiZks7xfjVM9Iln-Us9kfF4O5EBGSbUkjPG9-8hYo2Il7jDfzWDWB62onhw/s1600/140-call-d.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
he looked out the window at the universe.
<p>
he started to cry.</font>
<p>
<center><font color = "red""> the end </font></center>
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</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="500" height="281" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RtvI__7XWQ8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>
rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-33521119892828738642016-09-10T05:46:00.001-07:002016-09-21T09:40:16.292-07:00games, part 13<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-12.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<p>
<font color = "black"><center><b><i><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-3.html "><font color = "red">edna</font></a>, a kind-hearted waitress at a bus station, has offered a night's shelter to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games-part-2.html "><font color = "blue">julie</font></a>, a young woman with a strange story.</i></b></center>
<p>
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edna lived in the house she had grown up in, and had lived in it alone since her mother had died a few years past.
<p>
the neighborhood had gone a little bit to seed since the war had ended and a couple of nearby factories had closed down. many of the houses were empty, and the lots overgrown.
<p>
edna’s old friends - the same ones who told her she should not take in stray humans and animals - kept telling her she should move out before the neighborhood went completely to hell.
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and that she especially should not be bringing strangers home when she had hardly any neighbors nearby who would hear her cries for help if she was set upon by one of the objects of her charity.
<p>
one of the houses beside edna’s was empty. the other was occupied by another woman living alone - old mrs henderson, the world’s nosiest and nastiest neighbor, who had feuded with edna’s mother for more than twenty years over every little thing either could come up with.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hGYmcLM0wEVvNDSP6pnW0hVs7NYNy1zxudC0Zlu2My8wtWYR7Pneu3JkukRTckh38QpjPz4IuWMa7rqlcFLZ-qwBi1DeIqyGV5cnNatZ9Ik9FTlv5BNHckXkgmGa5EHEfD0PN0BclcEy/s1600/139-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hGYmcLM0wEVvNDSP6pnW0hVs7NYNy1zxudC0Zlu2My8wtWYR7Pneu3JkukRTckh38QpjPz4IuWMa7rqlcFLZ-qwBi1DeIqyGV5cnNatZ9Ik9FTlv5BNHckXkgmGa5EHEfD0PN0BclcEy/s1600/139-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
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mrs henderson was probably not quite the world’s nosiest neighbor any more, but only because she could hardly move around. and - the point edna’s friends made - she was deaf.
<p>
mrs henderson’s lights were all off when edna pulled her old pontiac into the driveway.
<p>
edna and julie got out of the car.
<p>
julie looked around. it was very dark. the houses that she could see were dark, and there were a lot of trees.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7a13TPyhrcMaLMcCT_G_fd9Awr2ymJ_NJp5RiLk45vxFi8OHZZcQkbPV0ZEav3mNM81vHgK5xIUw5OcecXWRjeGGJF7ZZmppA_6oCNDtorRq1o0bwtdR-qayEfYS3F4mx_oveEw-LDRE/s1600/139-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7a13TPyhrcMaLMcCT_G_fd9Awr2ymJ_NJp5RiLk45vxFi8OHZZcQkbPV0ZEav3mNM81vHgK5xIUw5OcecXWRjeGGJF7ZZmppA_6oCNDtorRq1o0bwtdR-qayEfYS3F4mx_oveEw-LDRE/s1600/139-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
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“it’s quiet,” julie said.
<p>
“yes it is,” edna answered. a little quieter than usual, edna now noticed, with no breeze.
<p>
edna led julie around to the front of the house. she took her house key out of her purse.
<p>
“you lock your door,” julie said. she did not seem surprised, just making an observation.
<p>
“yes, i do,”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5SQrdhEYl7GprpTo99pL4S4Tn4acRPI5SzYqGZdT1jXrRUHtYO7emc41l2y5FkdtkSvMDE_GoyPpRyEi0xWWFfWsz-SsJTtiBpXP-fReW5xGJv9IP83wpcw9UTaJJ6_h1XZ35vE3FfV0/s1600/139-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV5SQrdhEYl7GprpTo99pL4S4Tn4acRPI5SzYqGZdT1jXrRUHtYO7emc41l2y5FkdtkSvMDE_GoyPpRyEi0xWWFfWsz-SsJTtiBpXP-fReW5xGJv9IP83wpcw9UTaJJ6_h1XZ35vE3FfV0/s1600/139-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
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“we never locked our door,” julie said, in the same matter of fact way, as edna opened the door.
<p>
“it doesn’t hurt to be careful,” edna said. there was a light switch just inside the door and she turned it on.
<p>
“i guess not.” julie did not pursue the subject. she looked around. they were in a small parlor or living room, with a couple of couches, a small coffee table, and a small bookcase.
<p>
and a small fireplace which was spotlessly clean and looked unused.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6Da4nHcJPwFJB1NCZg6e15IUAJCtBFHVptz2ZeUXO6VasZORYo3baQStwWom-otiTaA9mAtDRvIKLQZMZW7aBsJCNs7rsThq6HL6MfYrQyciOYTmwsDPoHD3x6Wo_DMdupGAYYITKTMm/s1600/139-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp6Da4nHcJPwFJB1NCZg6e15IUAJCtBFHVptz2ZeUXO6VasZORYo3baQStwWom-otiTaA9mAtDRvIKLQZMZW7aBsJCNs7rsThq6HL6MfYrQyciOYTmwsDPoHD3x6Wo_DMdupGAYYITKTMm/s1600/139-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
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the biggest thing in the room was a big brown radio. an old fashioned standing lamp with a big red globe stood beside the radio.
<p>
there was a picture on the wall which julie glanced at. a girl who was probably a princess was staring at a pool or lake like she was thinking about jumping into it.
<p>
“have a seat.” edna pointed to one of the couches. “you want something? tea, milk, a coke or ginger ale?”
<p>
“thank you. a coke would be nice.” julie sat down on the larger of the two couches. she was directly facing the picture of the princess who was getting ready to jump into the lake.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5V-j95f1l9W-a1r3_Asju2ot68RyRfSmAqv6u-gNGAy4EyOqUarA-6FaBit6LNg_PEehuLBb74_Q17eSXEphXn-BN0t6LBNZZlR93DV165DezNbma29QMI4iF83018kvdTr4YyLaXoVht/s1600/139-games-princess.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5V-j95f1l9W-a1r3_Asju2ot68RyRfSmAqv6u-gNGAy4EyOqUarA-6FaBit6LNg_PEehuLBb74_Q17eSXEphXn-BN0t6LBNZZlR93DV165DezNbma29QMI4iF83018kvdTr4YyLaXoVht/s1600/139-games-princess.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
“unless you would rather go right to bed?” edna asked. “you must be tired after your long day”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXbrAtadV5UxISlLR1TtKCnzWGuw127SnYkC28tQNiuSyK_0Fzy02OYAeO6wxBVx1xZWdbff5hwQqQ3aCPWiwJNXNSsJztTffwzinW_Kq5bixW5CHYZ3-bej9uQTSUX9eR6O6rfZ0xzyM/s1600/139-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXbrAtadV5UxISlLR1TtKCnzWGuw127SnYkC28tQNiuSyK_0Fzy02OYAeO6wxBVx1xZWdbff5hwQqQ3aCPWiwJNXNSsJztTffwzinW_Kq5bixW5CHYZ3-bej9uQTSUX9eR6O6rfZ0xzyM/s1600/139-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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“oh,no, “ julie answered. “i am wide awake.” and she was. she had dozed a little in the car on the way over from the bus station but was now completely awake.
<p>
edna was pleased. she brought people home because she liked to talk to them. plus, julie’s particular story interested her, horrified as she was by it.
<p>
“then make yourself at home.” edna left julie and went into the kitchen.
<p>
julie looked around. without getting up, she could tell the house was a pretty good-sized one, bigger than the one she and her mother had lived in. it had an upstairs and probably at least three bedrooms. edna lived in it alone, she had said so on the drive over.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uGMiJACPvKTyFZB9r5fDzOCSAgeG6x2BhXIm76TQljYGgy9XVmG1t60ELrVTSOKgJ7to0uHrA3CfNVsVpQXyycVTicLizk9DK4OSMfA8YwSz42RlDfgphZIMPV-zTdZlP1vhmACobAWY/s1600/139-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uGMiJACPvKTyFZB9r5fDzOCSAgeG6x2BhXIm76TQljYGgy9XVmG1t60ELrVTSOKgJ7to0uHrA3CfNVsVpQXyycVTicLizk9DK4OSMfA8YwSz42RlDfgphZIMPV-zTdZlP1vhmACobAWY/s1600/139-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
edna returned with a ginger ale and a coke and a couple of glasses on a tray. each glass had a straw and a single large ice cube in it.
<p>
“i like your picture,” julie said, looking over edna’s head at it.
<p>
“the picture?” edna laughed. “oh, it’s been there for a hundred years. i never even notice it any more.”
<p>
“it tells a story,” julie said.
<p>
“it does?” edna smiled. “yes, i suppose you could say that.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i1Bpvxh3azSnzIu02TxZDc6QeFMAAiwmelsNtUsjmGefu_TqfcajcrBHSl-Yv4O6tYl6SBHdrSyjIWKEkIKLBCfp7MjPXDjlFOowQzIF2sH78VUSCubw25amxScHmx0RqAGq3eYuMzfB/s1600/139-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i1Bpvxh3azSnzIu02TxZDc6QeFMAAiwmelsNtUsjmGefu_TqfcajcrBHSl-Yv4O6tYl6SBHdrSyjIWKEkIKLBCfp7MjPXDjlFOowQzIF2sH78VUSCubw25amxScHmx0RqAGq3eYuMzfB/s1600/139-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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“i like things that tell stories, “ said julie. “pictures that tell stories, books that tell stories, songs that tell stories.”
<p>
“yes, so do i,” edna agreed.
<p>
“if there is no story, what’s the point of anything?”
<p>
“and what story do you see in my old picture?” edna glanced back at it. “i always thought she looked kind of sad.”
<p>
“she is sad,” said julie. “she is sad because her father, the king, is making her marry the dragon. the dragon will destroy the kingdom unless she marries him.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHHS7q6upBOBegapg28n_17GNE7WneHLIz6wjOM-W7ZDzOEg5ud8r8QZsgy9nLCy-DE2L6icjIs7xYThXfhLJ7GMEid_fFfFGG_tFZA59opq88sMIWHdhjVk3tgBflT4tXgKK1WWqOXsx/s1600/139-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHHS7q6upBOBegapg28n_17GNE7WneHLIz6wjOM-W7ZDzOEg5ud8r8QZsgy9nLCy-DE2L6icjIs7xYThXfhLJ7GMEid_fFfFGG_tFZA59opq88sMIWHdhjVk3tgBflT4tXgKK1WWqOXsx/s1600/139-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
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“that’s pretty sad,” edna agreed.
<p>
“not as sad as it will be when she jumps into the lake.”
<p>
“and drowns.”
<p>
“no, she doesn’t drown. much worse. she sinks to the bottom of the lake and there is a sea serpent, and she has to marry him. so she might as well have stayed on land and married the dragon.”
<p>
edna took a sip of her ginger ale. “you have quite an imagination.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEBxrmHBoIl7_x-uVkyUWJow0iFtd2DP7T_kKqdVb4PiUDnVDG5bFXP-jNx0iuFCoDGSPEYkOnFFHoI2kSUAYRH4vMTSlYx7zbRT5cyX_7NG1BOzviATuephMwwCW4ok97RPpWMO4XW3J/s1600/139-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisEBxrmHBoIl7_x-uVkyUWJow0iFtd2DP7T_kKqdVb4PiUDnVDG5bFXP-jNx0iuFCoDGSPEYkOnFFHoI2kSUAYRH4vMTSlYx7zbRT5cyX_7NG1BOzviATuephMwwCW4ok97RPpWMO4XW3J/s1600/139-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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“i am going to write a best selling novel,” julie said. “or a broadway play.” julie had decided to tell edna about her plan to write a best-selling novel. but - at least for now - not to say anything about the two diamond rings.
<p>
“i always thought i could write a best-seller myself,” said edna. “if i wasn’t so tired all the time. but what are you going to do?"
<p>
julie nodded sympathetically.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKi7CfOXUfYtldqw1p2OFRB99ql1Iwug_BaOApB7BEsn5WP4tGoVwC-hjlEobGkZxg9a71XZBRHndU2Z8eO5uBH_bCF06ONwYA4_247hpKztnjsmV4MDXY7onDp1EqXrQJtRzBrwWLF3l_/s1600/139-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKi7CfOXUfYtldqw1p2OFRB99ql1Iwug_BaOApB7BEsn5WP4tGoVwC-hjlEobGkZxg9a71XZBRHndU2Z8eO5uBH_bCF06ONwYA4_247hpKztnjsmV4MDXY7onDp1EqXrQJtRzBrwWLF3l_/s1600/139-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
edna would have liked to ask julie more about the mail-ordering husband she was supposed to meet at the bus station but instead said, “what will your best seller be about? do you have an idea for it yet?”
<p>
julie took a sip of her coke through its straw and thought for a few seconds. “it’s about a future world,” she said.
<p>
“that sounds interesting,” edna encouraged her.
<p>
“in the future all the women and girls live in one big city and all the men and boys in another big city . all the boys are brought up to be bullfighters or cowboys or deep-sea divers. and all the girls are brought up to bake either pies or cakes or cookies.
<br>
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<p>
the bullfighters have to marry girls who bake pies. the cowboys marry the girls who bake cakes and the deep-sea divers marry the girls who bake cookies.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2RWJizz9nxn0rpaUw-JUrGqs10LzyTXO60G6eoCIxo30jgRY9oQUyU1xotb8gh6XXa4ag2KRaU7v5kpezn5tXLGYwJavgue0_wgY3P8S50hvpWFQcDHLzJVPMgmx7nVr_nDdWzsgaR_f/s1600/139-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2RWJizz9nxn0rpaUw-JUrGqs10LzyTXO60G6eoCIxo30jgRY9oQUyU1xotb8gh6XXa4ag2KRaU7v5kpezn5tXLGYwJavgue0_wgY3P8S50hvpWFQcDHLzJVPMgmx7nVr_nDdWzsgaR_f/s1600/139-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
“that’s a good start.” edna said.
<p>
“the heroine is a girl named yolina 543. she is the most beautiful girl in the whole big city except for one thing. she has a blue birthmark on her forehead that looks like a bullet hole …”</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-14.html"><font color = "red">part 14 </font></a></center>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-76571529396526730072016-09-02T09:43:00.000-07:002016-09-10T05:48:10.854-07:00games, part 12<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-11.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVC_tWmsdniYfJTG0KJrRCa-5a7BXM8p8PjFp9dnkTk_cBvwhpI88kumSgzsHMc5XC_sL4M1sHnYSTQ-GJCJBZruPpAocD5fzaXx-0W4g5EUsCIkQq3WsnIfcinqIFvyp5ITVNFpVgx8CW/s1600/138-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVC_tWmsdniYfJTG0KJrRCa-5a7BXM8p8PjFp9dnkTk_cBvwhpI88kumSgzsHMc5XC_sL4M1sHnYSTQ-GJCJBZruPpAocD5fzaXx-0W4g5EUsCIkQq3WsnIfcinqIFvyp5ITVNFpVgx8CW/s1600/138-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<font color = "black">“is that you, porterfield?”
<p>
“of course, it is i, mrs morris, who else would it be?”
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“but i fired you, porterfield, yesterday. don’t you remember? i told you to leave and never darken my hearth again.”
<p>
“of course i remember, mrs morris. i remember all the times you fired me - at least all the times this month.”
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porterfield, the long time butler-handyman-factotum of the old morris house, entered mrs morris’s bedroom. he had a bunch of wooden boards under his arm, and a hammer in his hand.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSWzACmYczTx8OvPLiwvHMb50oh2XlKwN2SN5SPFoFejsZj1az5ZppjR-CxPsY2y4WELCzrvHiI_UZ0MVF07GGSUVy4gdYQ8ll7EkMAP858MXnB_Bj7osArCPcJmOVvnn-_LK_WD18Qxj/s1600/138-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSWzACmYczTx8OvPLiwvHMb50oh2XlKwN2SN5SPFoFejsZj1az5ZppjR-CxPsY2y4WELCzrvHiI_UZ0MVF07GGSUVy4gdYQ8ll7EkMAP858MXnB_Bj7osArCPcJmOVvnn-_LK_WD18Qxj/s1600/138-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
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mrs morris was in bed, where she spent most of her life, under the same heavy blankets she burrowed under in all weathers and seasons. a pink shaded lamp on a small table beside the bed provided the only light in the room. a pile of novels by mary roberts rinehart and john dickson carr teetered on the edge of the table.
<p>
porterfield turned on a standing lamp beside the door, lighting up the room somewhat.
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mrs morris noticed the boards under porterfield’s arm. “what do you think you are doing?”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNz1BHiuRNcsl55LmfGTcDOUf27x1H2EDrUso9F6ao75B1ZajGP01r6o5LAGlBxiDeIgyOWOa6lXMctSTc683LZ5iwDCGpkUJlSvaDleTq4qeDvUy1t7STlM42k8o-vecf_sF4E2IPCf5/s1600/138-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNz1BHiuRNcsl55LmfGTcDOUf27x1H2EDrUso9F6ao75B1ZajGP01r6o5LAGlBxiDeIgyOWOa6lXMctSTc683LZ5iwDCGpkUJlSvaDleTq4qeDvUy1t7STlM42k8o-vecf_sF4E2IPCf5/s1600/138-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
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“just preparing for the storm, mrs morris,” porterfield replied, “the one i have been telling you about for the last twenty-four hours.” he placed half the pile of boards under one of the two windows in the room - it was a corner room - and the other half under the window on the other side of the room.
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“i hope you are not going to start banging nails at this time of night. i won’t have it. and i want you out of here in an hour or i will call the sheriff.”
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“just a precaution for now. just being prepared. in case the storm gets really bad, these will be here and ready.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlaqqWRw8kLI3zAjHYYkBRQ_YdNgocOqybnR_yNQHGRgB5FOAd-Jdn4pRwkj4oVF8wb_xnH8rvrOn7vi5zbV1BJtlPMWn3X61LFdJrWWKNbRLzujzlPwEhW0rTQ6QZaOCWwQToIb5cd_f/s1600/138-games-d-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrlaqqWRw8kLI3zAjHYYkBRQ_YdNgocOqybnR_yNQHGRgB5FOAd-Jdn4pRwkj4oVF8wb_xnH8rvrOn7vi5zbV1BJtlPMWn3X61LFdJrWWKNbRLzujzlPwEhW0rTQ6QZaOCWwQToIb5cd_f/s1600/138-games-d-alt.gif" /></a></div>
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“pooh. i know you. any excuse to cause a fuss, and especially any excuse to make a lot of noise and exasperate my nerves.”
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“the correct term is ‘exacerbate my nerves’, mrs morris.” porterfield placed the hammer on the windowsill. he took some nails out of his pocket.
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“i will not have you correcting my grammar, “ mrs morris told him. “you are fired. i want you out of here by morning, storm or no storm.”
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porterfield started to put some nails on the windowsill beside the hammer, thought better of it, and put the nails back in his pocket.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Ajun1IXyzCQA7harxjPENGkMKa41YXv8T1SsxJU2c_8BKFcpLdjm2bnn-95AeHrl8XqSWlN19tMy-LNhfvXsL2lVpPSo11LfEYX_q-lGfXyIr7Dg8Yk3oIjOMB0GVHETcVKuuojaD0Ry/s1600/138-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Ajun1IXyzCQA7harxjPENGkMKa41YXv8T1SsxJU2c_8BKFcpLdjm2bnn-95AeHrl8XqSWlN19tMy-LNhfvXsL2lVpPSo11LfEYX_q-lGfXyIr7Dg8Yk3oIjOMB0GVHETcVKuuojaD0Ry/s1600/138-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
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“i am going to take a run into simmonsville,” he told mrs morris. “pick up some things we might need if the storm lasts a while.”
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“will the store be open? at this time of night?”
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“oh, of course. old burley loves these situations. he will be open all night, doing a land office business. do you want something before i go? a glass of milk, or a cup of tea?”
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“a cup of tea would be nice. but then you are fired. i don’t want to see your foolish face again after that.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQoFr42ZW677atfFuzb3iXhvJn9H_hoAGNfbOuuAE1hd_Rf_sj0LBOSwBkvTFzatvwjjhRYn-cqfQGfeBnW6uc7bpd1OpJGbWO2EFaSBKOPyvvz26F1ODoPJCE4W2M5x_Fx2KQGPW7qxL/s1600/138-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpQoFr42ZW677atfFuzb3iXhvJn9H_hoAGNfbOuuAE1hd_Rf_sj0LBOSwBkvTFzatvwjjhRYn-cqfQGfeBnW6uc7bpd1OpJGbWO2EFaSBKOPyvvz26F1ODoPJCE4W2M5x_Fx2KQGPW7qxL/s1600/138-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
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porterfield switched the standing lamp off and started to leave the room.
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“oh, one more thing,” he said to mrs morris, with his hand on the doorknob.
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“what?” she asked sharply.
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“i put those advertisements in the papers for a new maid. but i haven’t heard anything yet. and nobody has come by.”
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mrs morris just nodded, and porterfield left the room and closed the door behind him.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMlnFHK2YHwu1pLp8GAgAgetWbVayR7p8wS4PN4oBgecpHA4kk_AkbLNwntlGEsYDt5qKHKDJ8juIpEHoJV5jiittn3xBmXUOINtxRmdBAxnGLoLbJ20mljP6rEGMSJMmHVIwboPd-PKd/s1600/138-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMlnFHK2YHwu1pLp8GAgAgetWbVayR7p8wS4PN4oBgecpHA4kk_AkbLNwntlGEsYDt5qKHKDJ8juIpEHoJV5jiittn3xBmXUOINtxRmdBAxnGLoLbJ20mljP6rEGMSJMmHVIwboPd-PKd/s1600/138-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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mrs morris resumed reading <i>the problem of the green capsule</i> by john dickson carr.
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porterfield made his way down the dark hallway, humming a happy tune. he was in a good mood, as the storm was giving him something to do.
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something to break up the monotony and increasing frustration bordering on despair of his existence.
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porterfield had installed himself, and maintained his position, as a functionary and servant - often the only servant - in the vast, gloomy, largely empty “old morris house” after the legendarily miserly old mister morris had died.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOeSX96xnUPoU14TcSlfCvo7jqM4ettQQ7TX2hkDe2AxzKcSYlyK7ghnMxjMbcRZm8nAUT_i98ivTgGF8bSXY7GYJp4tQxrVYGvlGX2XdCHVfCkqa9UcRXlYk0o_wI4a9iWxDH5p-L9Hk/s1600/138-games-h-soft-2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWOeSX96xnUPoU14TcSlfCvo7jqM4ettQQ7TX2hkDe2AxzKcSYlyK7ghnMxjMbcRZm8nAUT_i98ivTgGF8bSXY7GYJp4tQxrVYGvlGX2XdCHVfCkqa9UcRXlYk0o_wI4a9iWxDH5p-L9Hk/s1600/138-games-h-soft-2.gif" /></a></div>
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old morris had been quite a bit older than his wife when he died, and now she was old.
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porterfield had spent the years searching the house and the grounds for the fortune “everybody knew” old morris - who disdained the modern institution of banking - had left behind.
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others had had the same idea. porterfield had taken care of them.
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but so far all his searches and machinations had been in vain.
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<center>*</center>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoERcQ4YiTA565AjdmaX4ON4-eNzemkmmyrXtKVJ5GqGL697Es0vT0Jfx-dsoXiRDNpu03-xJduhsHJT6H9x2fiTuIgNxPQmi2X7vyICKDeSDnqbqqzOzE8tW4sKAgOr2_wj7BLj8u-Sf1/s1600/138-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoERcQ4YiTA565AjdmaX4ON4-eNzemkmmyrXtKVJ5GqGL697Es0vT0Jfx-dsoXiRDNpu03-xJduhsHJT6H9x2fiTuIgNxPQmi2X7vyICKDeSDnqbqqzOzE8tW4sKAgOr2_wj7BLj8u-Sf1/s1600/138-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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back at the three roads truck stop, <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html"><font color = "blue">sheriff james brown</font></a> sipped his black coffee and gazed out into the night.
<p>
the stop was now empty except for samantha behind the counter - who had finished with her look magazine and was staring into space - and the sheriff. the sheriff knew that samantha was not much for conversation with folks she knew, although she could be as friendly as she had to be with the truckers and other people passing through.
<p>
but he was in a good mood. talking with those two young fellows about football had put him in a good mood.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYdRrn0T0MUP5KL5lHMSd5neeUUdBkL5R2Rd7PjjY0wp00oN188sp26MPxBg5cDoaDNN5CiOSKpzMUvAOG98WH-YhTrAC549rxtrbl3bJOeP2zwIIhYdaJ6XarytEVeDIjbyMr7AjdBG_/s1600/138-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYdRrn0T0MUP5KL5lHMSd5neeUUdBkL5R2Rd7PjjY0wp00oN188sp26MPxBg5cDoaDNN5CiOSKpzMUvAOG98WH-YhTrAC549rxtrbl3bJOeP2zwIIhYdaJ6XarytEVeDIjbyMr7AjdBG_/s1600/138-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
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a couple of fine young fellows, the salt of the earth. how mistaken he had been in taking them for a couple of hoodlums at first glance!
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he had enjoyed talking football with them and was only sorry he had not found a way to bring the conversation around to the war, and his, the sheriff’s, participation in it.
<p>
as he had told them, he did not like their chances at lizzie morris’s but he hoped they and the smaller fellow’s sister - what a peach! - found some honest employment down the road.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDG8nOvOBxZXNlJZoJrox4oVMNmmZmQFm0mblClZnQR4kDpur_gEflaEGUdZsxyNyvvQapBVkRklvFBG8uE_fT5tp6pdj70QQKvp0PzDNpo2292bUfUlnDwiyRikpXpMYW5Ihyp_8Y0Tsa/s1600/138-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDG8nOvOBxZXNlJZoJrox4oVMNmmZmQFm0mblClZnQR4kDpur_gEflaEGUdZsxyNyvvQapBVkRklvFBG8uE_fT5tp6pdj70QQKvp0PzDNpo2292bUfUlnDwiyRikpXpMYW5Ihyp_8Y0Tsa/s1600/138-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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now he could see the lights of a car pulling into the lot outside. it looked like the left headlight was cracked.
<p>
he watched as a couple of people got out of the low slung vehicle. a tall man with from the driver’s seat and a much shorter person - probably female - from the passenger seat.
<p>
as the pair headed through the shadows to the door of the truck stop the sheriff thought he recognized the slouching gait of the man.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWLuRgUQr52C21dEWE4TB4Liqp17nW2fFLFElbkP1kilzCsX6QgxNOD-6c_JsL2dgmxT8Q8nOCj3fgOYT29xvpV_h5w_3K1s8M4yXa008jrxvizD3RQe9xCOPKVCAgmBlPdqwC5w8CGAk2/s1600/138-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWLuRgUQr52C21dEWE4TB4Liqp17nW2fFLFElbkP1kilzCsX6QgxNOD-6c_JsL2dgmxT8Q8nOCj3fgOYT29xvpV_h5w_3K1s8M4yXa008jrxvizD3RQe9xCOPKVCAgmBlPdqwC5w8CGAk2/s1600/138-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
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an alarm went off in his head and his good mood evaporated like the steam from a cup of coffee in a snowstorm.
<p>
tomeys! probably a couple of damned tomeys!
<p>
the tomeys were a low down clan of no-goods that were the curse of the county since anybody could remember.
<p>
harder to get rid of than raccoons or woodchucks.
<p>
the door opened and sure enough there was the worst of the lot - carl “lobo” tomey - along with a girl, “little red” tomey, one of his sisters or cousins or whatever - you never knew with the tomeys - walking in as easy as you please and looking right at the sheriff with all the sass in nebraska.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghXxHytoHDKHcmO6vtGKBO-xE2wYHqhzLiVfuuAoyYA57qv0q4s4aV4vlAUJcjmP7PKMV0Kxmf59z_a0My8iNdEv6jraaDHW0xOvdJRFmqK0xJpewlf9VeHru10fx487kt0FaJOzTjZm4z/s1600/138-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghXxHytoHDKHcmO6vtGKBO-xE2wYHqhzLiVfuuAoyYA57qv0q4s4aV4vlAUJcjmP7PKMV0Kxmf59z_a0My8iNdEv6jraaDHW0xOvdJRFmqK0xJpewlf9VeHru10fx487kt0FaJOzTjZm4z/s1600/138-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“howdy there, sheriff. you’re looking well,” lobo greeted him. at least he didn’t offer to shake hands.
<p>
“you looking for me, lobo?”
<p>
“hell, no. but we seen your car outside so we figured you was in here.”
<p>
“haven’t seen you for a while,” the sheriff said. “just passing through?”
<p>
“maybe. maybe. depends how hospitable folks are. you know how it is.”
<p>
“yeah, i know how it is.”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jydTIlKnirkqylkF5oB0qqxai5LteudPfyA5aElxKHM0ezBB9zU61nIljtg7NSzl0BoEk3OHPU_A6cQCtTTrAevt9ue_KklzpE9RAJvIK1_kcygWIDhUcXt5aOyzG25r2voypYd7eM_P/s1600/138-games-n-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_jydTIlKnirkqylkF5oB0qqxai5LteudPfyA5aElxKHM0ezBB9zU61nIljtg7NSzl0BoEk3OHPU_A6cQCtTTrAevt9ue_KklzpE9RAJvIK1_kcygWIDhUcXt5aOyzG25r2voypYd7eM_P/s1600/138-games-n-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-13.html"><font color = "red">part 13 </font></a></center>
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rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-51705694894118503392016-08-26T10:46:00.001-07:002016-09-02T09:45:33.675-07:00games, part 11<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-10.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<font color = "black"><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-7.html"><font color = "blue">jenny </font></a>opened the window.
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she looked down, into the shadows beneath the pine tree beside the boarding house.
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as she suspected, it was <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-9.html "><font color = "red">rosie</font></a> who had tossed the pebbles against the window. and did she have someone with her?
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jenny didn’t want to shout and attract anybody’s attention in the house, so she just waved to rosie and gave her a thumbs up, to signal that she would come down.
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did she really want to see rosie tonight? and talk to - and listen - to her? she wasn’t really in the mood for her, even though she had not been able to sleep and had not been able to concentrate on her book.
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as jenny went down the flights of back stairs to the first floor, it occurred to her that it was not surprising that rosie had shown up - she probably wanted jenny to let her in to the cellar, because of the “big storm”.
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jenny was looking forward to the “big storm” and hoped it would not turn out to be a false alarm.
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jenny had met rosie in the little park by the bainville city hall where she sometimes hung out after school when she was in no hurry to get home.
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rosie was one of a rotating crew of derelicts who panhandled in the park and were somewhat tolerated by the local police as long as they did not get too close to the city hall and the respectable citizens did not actually complain about them.
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they all had “colorful” names and they all had stories to tell.
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“roadster rosie” had the most elaborate stories of all. about half of them were about roosevelt and other famous people who ruled the world - even if they were dead - and were out to get her, rosie.
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but the others were descriptions of the life rosie had led when she was younger and rich - really, really rich to hear her tell it - before “they” had it in for her and forced her into a life on the road.
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sometime jenny almost believed these stories. almost.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc9NZ3M8TPnxXk-1fymeHDKhDztZL1l-MzEthC5v76Bq7Y3BllUK0ZOdEEvIGragrITQTc5y8Hludc-E5Q1QwVn9YGqQeUnJgWXi8rp3fd6Q4tDY-LQcz1nJ9T7g77TsAWAoGotzsRZzO/s1600/137-games-h-alt-2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyc9NZ3M8TPnxXk-1fymeHDKhDztZL1l-MzEthC5v76Bq7Y3BllUK0ZOdEEvIGragrITQTc5y8Hludc-E5Q1QwVn9YGqQeUnJgWXi8rp3fd6Q4tDY-LQcz1nJ9T7g77TsAWAoGotzsRZzO/s1600/137-games-h-alt-2.gif" /></a></div>
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and on a couple of occasions - big snowstorms - jenny had been kindhearted enough to let rosie take shelter in the cellar of the boarding house.
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unknown to brenda, of course, who would have had conniptions like captain bligh if she had even suspected.
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jenny reached the bottom of the stairs. she was behind the pantry, which was behind the kitchen. a door to the left of the stairs led down to the cellar, and a door directly in front of her opened to the yard on the side of the house. she carefully opened it.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3HB0N79V94zgmjeYk90ndJuKpS2Hiq3qtCko52uGJ_hFnhOLT8fyyhV-PxFhbrYqHPpUK6FLkQzjuThAJ1xfVim-h4ScnGirmOgSadJ02MsmnCxIUuZtye0tZD6UpB8OPnswV9eaS6yz5/s1600/137-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3HB0N79V94zgmjeYk90ndJuKpS2Hiq3qtCko52uGJ_hFnhOLT8fyyhV-PxFhbrYqHPpUK6FLkQzjuThAJ1xfVim-h4ScnGirmOgSadJ02MsmnCxIUuZtye0tZD6UpB8OPnswV9eaS6yz5/s1600/137-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
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rosie immediately started talking, but in a low voice. “gee thanks, kid, i knew you wouldn’t let me down, not on a night like this.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvHCdt5r_2ZW04PgzvwRriIOrExmFsYd6elEIDubJtH1NESwtBVipchP3lbZmD3BimhV7s5O8KDi5TUkRVSiDuTUSERK9rJXKsqR2hqZqIUAUzmqE_f5jYDDuE2HS-_eJkW5jEtZlMERp/s1600/137-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvHCdt5r_2ZW04PgzvwRriIOrExmFsYd6elEIDubJtH1NESwtBVipchP3lbZmD3BimhV7s5O8KDi5TUkRVSiDuTUSERK9rJXKsqR2hqZqIUAUzmqE_f5jYDDuE2HS-_eJkW5jEtZlMERp/s1600/137-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
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“i haven’t said i would, rosie,” jenny answered.
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“aww, i was counting on you! you heard about the big storm, right?”
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“yes, but it’s not here yet. and keep your voice down.”
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“but everybody says it’s coming.” rosie noticed jenny looking at susquehanna sal. “you worried about this bum? hey, i didn’t invite her, she tagged along herself. i told her i couldn’t promise her anything.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRsWnEkoEhlTQWXUqXDa0j5MoMo8KU44I7j-oZCuqRGZ-K88_AkAyVl690jyxIRi4tT2qpwTyEhSrdewFDTsfOG7586RqLPDHouxnaPFct12hI5d0GWutjDDUrO-88bri3V1OxLclTSYu/s1600/137-games-g-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNRsWnEkoEhlTQWXUqXDa0j5MoMo8KU44I7j-oZCuqRGZ-K88_AkAyVl690jyxIRi4tT2qpwTyEhSrdewFDTsfOG7586RqLPDHouxnaPFct12hI5d0GWutjDDUrO-88bri3V1OxLclTSYu/s1600/137-games-g-alt.gif" /></a></div>
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sal looked at jenny with the saddest doggy expression she had ever seen on a human being. and she had seen some sad doggy expressions, on the bums in the park and on the tenants in the boarding house.
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jenny decided to let them in, it was better than having brenda hearing her talking to them. she opened the door wider behind her. “all right , come on in, both of you. but keep it down! i think brenda is in the kitchen and she might have someone with her.”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNChiAMnzGYQTATO5HueXgtCgCYLeJX4xWNIRLCDMx4z8Slo0UPeINMODSK-8vlRM5drFWKhT1Ng56qgkgKj5r7v5SdW9GZDENtafXHyaolmRfGcSYuAqTeCCzdIeNNemKr4ENMIP6GXHn/s1600/137-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNChiAMnzGYQTATO5HueXgtCgCYLeJX4xWNIRLCDMx4z8Slo0UPeINMODSK-8vlRM5drFWKhT1Ng56qgkgKj5r7v5SdW9GZDENtafXHyaolmRfGcSYuAqTeCCzdIeNNemKr4ENMIP6GXHn/s1600/137-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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jenny opened the cellar door. there was a naked bulb right above her and she pulled it on. it gave just enough light that they could get down the stairs without breaking their necks.
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they reached the bottom of the stairs. rosie and sal looked around.
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“there’s no other lights,” jenny told them. “you will have to let your eyes get accustomed to the dark. there are some rugs over there in the corner behind the furnace, so make yourselves at home. “
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPS0qZjrn896hjbJ02QsboMLJO7Fixy4dBXjBJIzZ1x-A5QBuvmaYoaTxPzQ99JatE6Qy2aDWdFlFfL2xJLrWAHR08jcfxc_Zax542wXqfCRbLtUMA2PPCb57j-1L3Pkl6W76M_VlnUqto/s1600/137-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPS0qZjrn896hjbJ02QsboMLJO7Fixy4dBXjBJIzZ1x-A5QBuvmaYoaTxPzQ99JatE6Qy2aDWdFlFfL2xJLrWAHR08jcfxc_Zax542wXqfCRbLtUMA2PPCb57j-1L3Pkl6W76M_VlnUqto/s1600/137-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
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“yeah, yeah, i remember the setup, kid. hey this is great, real cozy. reminds me of when i was the guest of the czar and czarina in moscow.”
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sal laughed.
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“what are you laughing at?” rosie asked her, but still keeping her voice down. “that’s gratitude for you, i save your miserable life and you laugh at me. what, you don’t think i was a guest at the kremlin in moscow?”
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie929oo2ens-YyP17_Us-Qv_YPjuxDmbbQWGLP29RaLTyc15ZNqaPrPw5FFSuXjTj3OKk0buVdVkrAl4Z7exL4LIfQD8sz82RW84AAOrYCrpm3arvzstZHsFonXft-UlGbdbl4xCS-LZu4/s1600/137-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie929oo2ens-YyP17_Us-Qv_YPjuxDmbbQWGLP29RaLTyc15ZNqaPrPw5FFSuXjTj3OKk0buVdVkrAl4Z7exL4LIfQD8sz82RW84AAOrYCrpm3arvzstZHsFonXft-UlGbdbl4xCS-LZu4/s1600/137-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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“moscow idaho maybe. you were in jail in moscow idaho.” sal looked over at jenny. “i haven’t properly introduced myself. my name is susquehanna sal and i am really grateful, honey, you have a heart of gold, you are the five wise virgins in the bible come back to life all at once, i really mean it.”
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“say, kid,” rosie asked jenny, “ you wouldn’t happen to have a smoke on you, would you?
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“no, rosie, i do not. and i am glad to hear you do not have one yourself. the last thing i want is for you to be burning the place down.”
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“oh well, no harm in asking.” rosie had gone over to the pile of rugs behind the furnace and was sorting through them. she tossed a couple over at sal’s feet.
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“sorry i can’t offer you anything,” jenny said. “but like i said, i think brenda is still in the kitchen. she’d call the national guard if she knew you were down here.”
<p>
“we’re all set here,” rosie assured her.
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“then i will leave you to it,” jenny said. she listened, but did not hear anything upstairs.
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“aw, stick around, “said rosie. “palaver a little bit. it’s been a while.”
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“all right. but just for a little while.”
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“what was that?’” asked sal.
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they listened.
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“raindrops,” said jenny. “the storm must just be starting.”
<p>
outside, <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html"><font color = "blue">hal</font></a> had returned from his walk around the block, and had seen jenny let rosie and sal in.
<p>
what was that all about? he wondered.
<p>
but he had other things on his mind, and quickly forgot about it.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/09/games-part-12.html"><font color = "red">part 12 </font></a></center>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-52462396128358132602016-08-19T06:42:00.000-07:002016-08-26T10:47:10.426-07:00games, part 10<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-9.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<font color = "black"><i>and in that moment i wondered if there were any power in the world that could keep a man from breaking down when his soul is being smashed into a thousand pieces… “</i>
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the <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-4.html "><font color = "blue">professor</font></a> paused in his story, as he guided the packard on to what seemed to be a main highway.
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at least, thought <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html "><font color = "red">bob</font></a>, it was more of a main highway than the road he had been walking down and that the professor had picked him up on.
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they could see the lights of a few other cars.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPe_Apl8_cMExK_xsBliJWdxtpNI0qLFrOzgiL_pxErdPB8J5QmewBFi_qVnlFa63eRMB5KUeYSP_XtP5YSIMlihLICbFeEfQD1Fu75pOFLPl3VNTinuHQnXVwnCxRWGwlsriBV9pPzdz_/s1600/136-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPe_Apl8_cMExK_xsBliJWdxtpNI0qLFrOzgiL_pxErdPB8J5QmewBFi_qVnlFa63eRMB5KUeYSP_XtP5YSIMlihLICbFeEfQD1Fu75pOFLPl3VNTinuHQnXVwnCxRWGwlsriBV9pPzdz_/s1600/136-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
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they all seemed to be going tin the other direction - east .
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east, west, it was all the same to bob.
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“where was i?” asked the professor.
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“your soul was getting smashed into a thousand pieces,” bob told him.
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“of course, of course… by millie… beautiful millie….”
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the professor’s thoughts seemed to drift and bob wondered if he was falling asleep and would run them off the road.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrapP-l1tG_Wp-pqbRxU_kbY_VFciSJ0HRIDAVgt0WMSeJ2PvHfgaXt0t_f10TLRXPVAlVkNs8fGFPEeTmUGR-L4VTSx5fpsYaAupErqSxXkietySSg5jXejI5uJFXMZreToKGyINhM5xH/s1600/136-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrapP-l1tG_Wp-pqbRxU_kbY_VFciSJ0HRIDAVgt0WMSeJ2PvHfgaXt0t_f10TLRXPVAlVkNs8fGFPEeTmUGR-L4VTSx5fpsYaAupErqSxXkietySSg5jXejI5uJFXMZreToKGyINhM5xH/s1600/136-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
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but he recovered and resumed his narrative.
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“… we got into the old model t and millie started off into the desert.
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somehow i kept my eyes on the dirt road and the tumbleweeds blowing across it, when all i wanted to do was turn and gaze and gaze at millie.
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‘barry has been so looking forward to seeing you - as of course i have too, charles - especially today.’
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‘why today?’ i managed to say, hardly able to hear myself over the sound of my hammering heart.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDT8QOmmS4clVY239Fh31nxeI2M9sRHIur38n6XzeRw4MF4HMCPqRKZwW0ukdkRkXNjc4R1LTaeIrwrPtsXvr9RJ8jM5uKx_UIvv_6tA2l2_7F3stKNeM4_xPNJe_ylbU2HlgKj8xckB3/s1600/136-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDT8QOmmS4clVY239Fh31nxeI2M9sRHIur38n6XzeRw4MF4HMCPqRKZwW0ukdkRkXNjc4R1LTaeIrwrPtsXvr9RJ8jM5uKx_UIvv_6tA2l2_7F3stKNeM4_xPNJe_ylbU2HlgKj8xckB3/s1600/136-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
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‘oh - perhaps i am just imagining things - but barry has seemed - just a little bit out of sorts the last couple of days - i am sure it is nothing, really - but your visit should be just the thing to cheer him up!’
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barry a little out of sorts? maybe he would drop dead and leave millie to me! not that i seriously wished any such thing, of course, but these are the sort of thoughts that drift through a man’s head when he is being driven mad by impossible passion.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2I0Pad7VYUezfaDi8QNAkS1PuxUl71PqnN_v_4l4T-hbwUnYIRiA2g5EeLKJQWAfEZgR6cmOD1qU2NJ77L2Cru2vUniJd4gsMZOjLyeTJe_-J51HK_9C0bFRsLk_nncWLy0lqEPfnUNmF/s1600/136-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2I0Pad7VYUezfaDi8QNAkS1PuxUl71PqnN_v_4l4T-hbwUnYIRiA2g5EeLKJQWAfEZgR6cmOD1qU2NJ77L2Cru2vUniJd4gsMZOjLyeTJe_-J51HK_9C0bFRsLk_nncWLy0lqEPfnUNmF/s1600/136-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
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‘perhaps it has something to do with the work he is engaged on?’ i ventured.
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‘oh, it is, most definitely,’ millie surprised me by saying. ‘we have run into a few snags on the project.’
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<i>we?</i> i thought. but i said, ‘no doubt barry has some sort of crew of scientists working on this with him.’
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‘oh no! there is just barry and i working on it .’
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMC0kE2pyQ0toFtbnC9FGo_B7KL5UVqjF4vytbzIgQQ7TUZA874Kx9_37WXdgfhv3o72C-kinrqoDPxuze8M_pp5cPeJih2D4_NqP56buYmsazAXb_3T7I91wSc9oOMdoOm311zySV8ka/s1600/136-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMC0kE2pyQ0toFtbnC9FGo_B7KL5UVqjF4vytbzIgQQ7TUZA874Kx9_37WXdgfhv3o72C-kinrqoDPxuze8M_pp5cPeJih2D4_NqP56buYmsazAXb_3T7I91wSc9oOMdoOm311zySV8ka/s1600/136-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
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barry and i? now i was completely bewildered. millie was working on this project? the millie i knew was the most beautiful, the sweetest, the most wonderful girl in the world but no more a scientist than she was john dillinger or hitler. in fact barry himself was no scientist and i had assumed he was just administering the project and riding herd on the scientists who were actually doing whatever they were doing.
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‘but,’ i said, ’surely there were others?’
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRacoZhHY60I9I3WqxrqppU8C1Q8qUYhGDV_QkOmvod7jo5gbXASI7ULPTAHdbdr61S_a76LAcTSRjcT6xy2x47Kq3xWbcHHu2D6ju7tt4YDeXsuRiEpb9Tz8aC6nOcP6HZX7DfTYQJ1Xv/s1600/136-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRacoZhHY60I9I3WqxrqppU8C1Q8qUYhGDV_QkOmvod7jo5gbXASI7ULPTAHdbdr61S_a76LAcTSRjcT6xy2x47Kq3xWbcHHu2D6ju7tt4YDeXsuRiEpb9Tz8aC6nOcP6HZX7DfTYQJ1Xv/s1600/136-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
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‘there were,’ millie replied, ‘but they turned out to be a bunch of quitters! who gave up at the first little sign of trouble. and good riddance to them, thats what i say!’
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i was completely baffled and resolved to say no more and wait until we reached our destination.
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we drove in silence as i tried to find a glimmer of sense in what millie had told me.
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‘here we are’ millie announced suddenly, as she stopped the model t.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTuieqaep7nLN6_-m8lw4Hxh1oBflasz58muBimR_osZesSPIm0tS9A9pDabuuwPmuvXVwfuxVasQMAMKWwBVFDXbk5IRHX7Sn2ix2d9RuSGxKiX4BScQh5E-tC3P6lDjd8kIl9QpslFa/s1600/136-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTuieqaep7nLN6_-m8lw4Hxh1oBflasz58muBimR_osZesSPIm0tS9A9pDabuuwPmuvXVwfuxVasQMAMKWwBVFDXbk5IRHX7Sn2ix2d9RuSGxKiX4BScQh5E-tC3P6lDjd8kIl9QpslFa/s1600/136-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
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it was my turn to be astonished anew. “here” was nothing more than a shack - in the proverbial middle of nowhere - with no outbuildings that i could see, let alone the kind of structures i had expected from a hush-hush government project. i had also had a vague notion that there might be soldiers or guards on the premises, but there was no sign of such.
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nor was there any sign of barry, though i thought he might have seen or heard us coming.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPZFtWMhzqceNZGSHo9JJ8Hc3sg9_G0WtzamV-Est8omXNGOoBDem6P5hW3otUWAXRuOqJOw4fUxgLsPuwlvQJJUTrncFSObWxQLGHoj9S9LLGS_F66p1JdG1zFG87fJ_lRJQiwogCG_-/s1600/136-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPZFtWMhzqceNZGSHo9JJ8Hc3sg9_G0WtzamV-Est8omXNGOoBDem6P5hW3otUWAXRuOqJOw4fUxgLsPuwlvQJJUTrncFSObWxQLGHoj9S9LLGS_F66p1JdG1zFG87fJ_lRJQiwogCG_-/s1600/136-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
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‘barry must be taking a nap,’ said millie. ‘that’s good, he needs one. ‘ she smiled at me - i was so astonished by the surroundings that i felt hardly a glimmer of the bliss such a smile would have aroused in me a mere fifteen minutes before - and led the way the few feet to the shack.
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‘we won’t wake him’, millie said. ‘ i will just get you a nice glass of lemonade. come in, make yourself at home.’
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i heard a voice from the shack say ‘i’m awake’.
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and then i got the biggest shock of all.”
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the professor paused. “look up there,” he said to bob.
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lights appeared up ahead.
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it was a road block. the professor slowed the packard , and a state trooper stepped out on to the road fifty yards ahead of them and waved them down.
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the professor rolled his window down and the trooper, a big farmhand looking fellow who looked like he could carry two cows to market under his arms, approached.
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1O8YUbPgkKnsloXOyPwsfTP9XRG6OKY_99tpioAPPskEyf1aPkOgYWSaoPymXfNWqhiUu95AxIYtum0RxA109sGiO8ZShso4ARzN06Vhd-L49o4jvwCAtUXGSPAZxni_QXX2RCatKnNX/s1600/136-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge1O8YUbPgkKnsloXOyPwsfTP9XRG6OKY_99tpioAPPskEyf1aPkOgYWSaoPymXfNWqhiUu95AxIYtum0RxA109sGiO8ZShso4ARzN06Vhd-L49o4jvwCAtUXGSPAZxni_QXX2RCatKnNX/s1600/136-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
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“what’s going on, officer?” the professor asked genially. “has a madman escaped from the asylum? a bunch of desperadoes busted out of the state pen?”
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“nothing like that, sir,” the trooper answered with a straight face. “but we are just warning travelers that a big storm is headed this way and may wash out the road up ahead and especially the bridge over the river. so wherever you are going, even if you get there you might not get back any time soon.”
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“why thank you, officer,” the professor answered, “but i was quite aware of this no doubt storm of the century. my name is doctor fletcher, by the way, and i am on my way to treat one of the richest men in the world, for a rare disease that i am the world’s greatest authority on. and this is my assistant, perwald. i am sure mister barnes will offer us the full hospitality of his magnificent estate no matter the circumstances.”
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the trooper straightened up. “that’s as may be, sir. it is up to you if you wish to proceed.” he pointed to the sawhorses that had been put across the road.. “there is plenty of room there, sir, on the right, to get around the barrier.”
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“thank you, officer.”
<p>
“good night, sir.” the trooper waved the packard on with his flashlight.
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“ha, ha!” exclaimed the professor, as they were past the barricade and speeding up again. “we fooled him! we fooled him good!”</font>
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<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-11.html"><font color = "red">part 11 </font></a></center>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-64917594739913466392016-08-12T08:29:00.002-07:002016-08-19T06:43:10.997-07:00games, part 9<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-8.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<p>
<font color = "black"><i>and the wild card was rosie…. drunken rosie, who had seen it all, who had been born in a penthouse and been blown into the gutter… and who knew every trick in the book… or did she?</i>
<p>
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<br>
night had fallen over the jungle.
<p>
it was almost deserted. many of the boes had already left because winter was coming on, and most of those who had hung around had cleared out ahead the approaching storm.
<p>
the three who were left - the montana kid, susquehanna sal, and roadster rosie - watched a can of beans as it began to bubble over the little fire.
<p>
the montana kid was known as the montana kid because he claimed to be from montana, even though he was really from cuyahoga, new york.
<p>
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<br>
susquehanna sal called herself susquehanna sal because she liked the sound of it.
<p>
and roadster rosie had earned her moniker because when she was tipsy she often spoke of her childhood when her grandfather had given her rides in his “roadster” . the other bums found this expression quaint and amusing and the name stuck to her.
<p>
the beans continued to bubble slowly. the montana kid gave them a stir with a little whittled stick.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukVtqBeoPbvHtIWdfJ8H54QJIOYPVIct0gR0Vf9v8EsFZcrYcvy2Vn1IYh4cquvjdCP9SS7aQ-UAZjgbdxO7oIZDHPzLOXcr-DDnb8RJFW3MAgwbF_o2HhNtpBVHnZNu8kOQnCWB57g-c/s1600/135-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukVtqBeoPbvHtIWdfJ8H54QJIOYPVIct0gR0Vf9v8EsFZcrYcvy2Vn1IYh4cquvjdCP9SS7aQ-UAZjgbdxO7oIZDHPzLOXcr-DDnb8RJFW3MAgwbF_o2HhNtpBVHnZNu8kOQnCWB57g-c/s1600/135-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“stir ‘em right down to the bottom, “ sal reminded him. “get that heat through the whole can.”
<p>
“i know what i’m doing,” the kid mumbled.
<p>
sal did not bother to reply.
<p>
“it’s quiet,” the kid said after awhile. “too quiet.”
<p>
as soon as he said it he regretted it, because his comment seemed to penetrate to rosie, who had been half asleep on the crate she was sitting on.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmWiXJIbfjcbIKPegeJcKwO-K02JXyLomPwB9B6u4Jng22JDfrQM1h3yc4RGkDeWitsVZMkti57Yr1KJkSyWpK3QdkfaHgNMs-UBeP7wtDw26naZbH0rxau-dxw3Hw7fZSAoVSkGj-TMA/s1600/135-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmWiXJIbfjcbIKPegeJcKwO-K02JXyLomPwB9B6u4Jng22JDfrQM1h3yc4RGkDeWitsVZMkti57Yr1KJkSyWpK3QdkfaHgNMs-UBeP7wtDw26naZbH0rxau-dxw3Hw7fZSAoVSkGj-TMA/s1600/135-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
rosie could go for days without saying anything, but when she did start to talk there was no stopping her.
<p>
“quiet?” she said now. “you think this is quiet? you call this quiet?”
<p>
“quiet enough,” the kid answered mildly. “like it usually is before a storm.” he looked back toward the highway, which was dark and deserted.
<p>
“the kid was just making an observation, like,” sal added. “he didn’t mean no harm.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDZBjtL4_Rry6zEee7kmTVHsrjwYTwGF7vyz__ei1dVm2bQPrhMnpoQLMCexdKXiTFo8tIl72GtzE0yHEJOMhJ9VJe4R696pyvIc3oWH76N9L34JIjtLHVlXXoopHzXcOqj9gy_R3eaRu/s1600/135-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHDZBjtL4_Rry6zEee7kmTVHsrjwYTwGF7vyz__ei1dVm2bQPrhMnpoQLMCexdKXiTFo8tIl72GtzE0yHEJOMhJ9VJe4R696pyvIc3oWH76N9L34JIjtLHVlXXoopHzXcOqj9gy_R3eaRu/s1600/135-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you call this quiet?” rosie went on. “i’ll tell you where it was quiet. it was quiet in frankenstein’s cellar, that’s where it was quiet. you could hear the worms digging their way to china under the earth, it was so quiet in frankenstein’s cellar when roosevelt threw me in there, threw me in there with charles p dawes and al capone and john dillinger because we told the truth about him. you could hear the worms so good in those long dark hours you learned the language of the worms… the language of the worms… that was real quiet, let me tell you…”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbxUjF0XrvPnERJeEuqNt6J1R7cJcJA89LEpXG4N7cTsRxFC-FUS9mvtliimJUWORq4eSWXmc1XYBkdhHDf_hiCFFrBTPN3UKQDmi58eF7EV8ZefAqym2VMT706sB3GAfjR4XVOJyKObR/s1600/135-games-f-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbxUjF0XrvPnERJeEuqNt6J1R7cJcJA89LEpXG4N7cTsRxFC-FUS9mvtliimJUWORq4eSWXmc1XYBkdhHDf_hiCFFrBTPN3UKQDmi58eF7EV8ZefAqym2VMT706sB3GAfjR4XVOJyKObR/s1600/135-games-f-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“and what was the worms saying?” asked sal.
<p>
“look here, get your plates ready because these beans are just about done,” said the kid.
<p>
“you sure about that?” asked sal. “you sure you stirred them up good, got the heat all through them?”
<p>
“they are hot as they are going to be,” insisted the kid. “hold them plates out if you want some.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJf19RIM1uQoqWAuX6OJgZNrzMd3qM9HUJ1UVE3XzIQ676MNd6HrAQIRppJzNHHmv9b-BVNFCpDBFJD9qlkdXifEffXDHxkCBhdj6PDK-imQdQu0yNBKdYa3neEHEUEuzKUaCcs7s-I4o/s1600/135-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJf19RIM1uQoqWAuX6OJgZNrzMd3qM9HUJ1UVE3XzIQ676MNd6HrAQIRppJzNHHmv9b-BVNFCpDBFJD9qlkdXifEffXDHxkCBhdj6PDK-imQdQu0yNBKdYa3neEHEUEuzKUaCcs7s-I4o/s1600/135-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the storm and frankenstein and the language of the worms were forgotten as the kid spooned the beans on to their tin plates and they started shoveling them down their throats.
<p>
“hot enough for you?” the kid asked. sal just nodded with her mouth full.
<p>
suddenly a gust of wind sprang up.
<p>
“lordy, here it is,” exclaimed sal. “maybe i should have caught that freight with maxie and toledo.” she shook her head. “or maybe just not been such a sinner.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw0QvSbtOHM7sO1YMyaVsvDQqjt9cTe2t11T5DBVWkpr_0BeEInKlThIE-kheIkGV9erhfFL5_N-z_3dIOyzp1YhVIYDhtWB6Zlfy-Nc1m9LsbHxPKgeiyvQQ7-Aqqx7e2JWpaWznV_Fa/s1600/135-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw0QvSbtOHM7sO1YMyaVsvDQqjt9cTe2t11T5DBVWkpr_0BeEInKlThIE-kheIkGV9erhfFL5_N-z_3dIOyzp1YhVIYDhtWB6Zlfy-Nc1m9LsbHxPKgeiyvQQ7-Aqqx7e2JWpaWznV_Fa/s1600/135-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“it ain’t here yet,” said the kid. “plenty of time to finish them beans.”
<p>
rosie laughed. “yes, here it is. judgment day, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.” rosie sometimes used words like “facsimile” whose meanings were obscure to her companions, but bums with extensive vocabularies were no rarity on the road, and sal and the kid paid it no mind.
<p>
rosie finished her beans. “yes, sir, judgment day is here. too bad it’s not here for those that truly deserve it, like roosevelt and his henchmen.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJNRUGRAQuV-SL4vNl2IiTtG34wUGiJYJNEhKkKgcRvVIYWEVprEqULYduTKq6yinOvkiezURjrluiE0OdYGby-quzI81x6FMmvaY63Hko8p6S1B3K9OD24SnspLKk94hg739ydDGgYRk/s1600/135-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJNRUGRAQuV-SL4vNl2IiTtG34wUGiJYJNEhKkKgcRvVIYWEVprEqULYduTKq6yinOvkiezURjrluiE0OdYGby-quzI81x6FMmvaY63Hko8p6S1B3K9OD24SnspLKk94hg739ydDGgYRk/s1600/135-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“now, rosie,” the kid said. “mister roosevelt is dead and in his grave, these twenty years, leave him in peace.”
<p>
“i think it is only five or six years,” put in sal.
<p>
“five or ten or twenty, it’s all the same,” said the kid.
<p>
“i told you before, roosevelt isn’t dead,” said rosie. “he is just hiding. with his pals hitler and william jennings bryan and carole lombard and the kaiser. when my grandfather was alive he kept those bastards in line … yes, he did…”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZz5UHN6I5sgNm4jdGQIJqa6Kj5z8PsJ-9GXWyBKzD9S8hiVPPD3Sh22tRUVuB2g-a3TzSkEKdnbqXh4ZaXJPtfS9eA37LISlROaL0UkkIIhOYLt9za05G8ulsMVTb1bEPqlbZd1o1hqF/s1600/135-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZz5UHN6I5sgNm4jdGQIJqa6Kj5z8PsJ-9GXWyBKzD9S8hiVPPD3Sh22tRUVuB2g-a3TzSkEKdnbqXh4ZaXJPtfS9eA37LISlROaL0UkkIIhOYLt9za05G8ulsMVTb1bEPqlbZd1o1hqF/s1600/135-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
another gust of wind came along, shaking the rods the can of beans had been hung on.
<p>
rosie took a rag out of her pocket and scooped up some sand and ashes from around the fire and began scouring her tin plate.
<p>
the other two finished their beans and started doing the same.
<p>
“and i’ll tell you what else,” said rosie.
<p>
“what else?” asked sal. “what else, rosie?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrV9vZhgQMNgtt1AYW4Mg-LGKqpZp7-1CppCXs-U7kuwxlg34CjuPlJKa4e_vB9zsj8tjAGEIZkFUTRYmnfdAODUTWxeNVMa-V_d-_pRONVWni6G4O32AaDUfc0mWUS7xSVL-xm4YWrzAQ/s1600/135-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrV9vZhgQMNgtt1AYW4Mg-LGKqpZp7-1CppCXs-U7kuwxlg34CjuPlJKa4e_vB9zsj8tjAGEIZkFUTRYmnfdAODUTWxeNVMa-V_d-_pRONVWni6G4O32AaDUfc0mWUS7xSVL-xm4YWrzAQ/s1600/135-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you two bums can get blown away by this devil’s wind, but i got an ace in the hole. yes, sir, an ace in the hole.”
<p>
“you don’t say so,” the kid answered in his mild voice.
<p>
“yeah, an ace in the hole. i got a pal, see, who will let me stay with her. a good kid who will take me in. maybe just in her cellar, but she will take me in. while you two bums are having the clothes blown off your miserable carcasses in this tornado or whatever it is.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAIc6CNNkUJCebMx-58zRNuthEcVH3mONZP1ACzq-fvTNamp6krX8LVy66fvuVf4mXAbY3N0tehAPld3yhpvXh0_z0hyphenhyphen_y_OhDafhFyxkr4v2L7zU7KNJ6N8ZmqM0mLZyKffc4tU3S2Bi/s1600/135-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAIc6CNNkUJCebMx-58zRNuthEcVH3mONZP1ACzq-fvTNamp6krX8LVy66fvuVf4mXAbY3N0tehAPld3yhpvXh0_z0hyphenhyphen_y_OhDafhFyxkr4v2L7zU7KNJ6N8ZmqM0mLZyKffc4tU3S2Bi/s1600/135-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“well,” sal ventured, “if this pal is such a pal of yours, maybe she will take in a pal of a pal, if you get my drift.”
<p>
rosie stood up. she put her plate and her tin fork in her coat pocket and checked the pockets. “i don’t think so. she’s got class, see, just like i used to have myself. she wouldn’t have any use for the likes of you.”
<p>
“it wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it?” sal persisted. “i don’t got no place else to go, let me tag along just in case.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxkXsd-NezmGOX5HjGtdmojnDdN-FDf2oHnujz6U4Eb-Y8UsrCI_QatY5G5bfoBkz6BdIB_gZ4H9ALKuaEhEKN4PCnP9QHVnpyLA1UxY66s-b814FHeNxiHvdRW8dlFGffuA-8SoldF8Q/s1600/135-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxkXsd-NezmGOX5HjGtdmojnDdN-FDf2oHnujz6U4Eb-Y8UsrCI_QatY5G5bfoBkz6BdIB_gZ4H9ALKuaEhEKN4PCnP9QHVnpyLA1UxY66s-b814FHeNxiHvdRW8dlFGffuA-8SoldF8Q/s1600/135-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
rosie shrugged. “yeah, you can tag along for all the good it’s going to do you. but i’m not making any promises.”
<p>
sal stood up too. “gee thanks, i won’t forget this. you got a good heart, rosie, under… under… you got a good heart, i always said so.”
<p>
the montana kid pulled a pint bottle out of his pocket. “you ladies want one for the road?”
<p>
“i thought you would never ask, you cheap bastard,” said rosie.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqfGQUe5FiJndBZfOySGoDo_D4Bx0r59B1aC6PlXUKiu_DEGOstbey2qnc9UAiVfQRG0_LrDjqRstAUUT1IfYVB-agPRiyBY_bC9hjnIsf5mWaD0Qdujt6FL94EDZAKw-FMvCPRwP7TbzE/s1600/135-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqfGQUe5FiJndBZfOySGoDo_D4Bx0r59B1aC6PlXUKiu_DEGOstbey2qnc9UAiVfQRG0_LrDjqRstAUUT1IfYVB-agPRiyBY_bC9hjnIsf5mWaD0Qdujt6FL94EDZAKw-FMvCPRwP7TbzE/s1600/135-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“now is that any way to talk?” asked sal.
<p>
“yes, rosie, is that any way to talk?” said the kid. “i think my offer is a generous one, considering you didn’t offer to take <i>me</i> along to your friend’s cellar. but go ahead, take a swig.”
<p>
“you hear that, rosie?” sal exclaimed. “you got a heart of gold, kid. i swear you must be john the baptist walking the earth again, if not saint peter himself.”
<p>
rosie took a generous swig from the kid’s bottle and handed it to sal. “yes, we will all gather at the river, some fine day. all of us except roosevelt, that traitor to his class. ” she bowed to the kid. “thank you, kind sir, i won’t forget this. indeed, i won’t.” she turned to sal. “well, let’s shake a leg, if
you’re coming with me.”
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcQCoxAEB0ZmpIDvl3n5xWwF173ng1H3bIX_NCca6B0_k6Cs-cxP2LdKytgwuLp4u_Oruv0XfD-4QQiSfQhOvfzWKORcArN3ksDwWaVuRtdQrpbxOvFr-NZSrI8erAZPeE3vSg2FipCT/s1600/135-games-p.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiREcQCoxAEB0ZmpIDvl3n5xWwF173ng1H3bIX_NCca6B0_k6Cs-cxP2LdKytgwuLp4u_Oruv0XfD-4QQiSfQhOvfzWKORcArN3ksDwWaVuRtdQrpbxOvFr-NZSrI8erAZPeE3vSg2FipCT/s1600/135-games-p.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hy0wEAJO_h-RGv1aLw0yUciugQr0F_02THDvDPjwAgMX-WMvxea_nM-OVQBkw6YSHZEHuEZgSkFOJXmoDWXOW7HZq-VXgVf8I-lgV5EJ4VHtjtPPuQbNIoXBj200w7ocOI9egh5EvtCQ/s1600/135-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hy0wEAJO_h-RGv1aLw0yUciugQr0F_02THDvDPjwAgMX-WMvxea_nM-OVQBkw6YSHZEHuEZgSkFOJXmoDWXOW7HZq-VXgVf8I-lgV5EJ4VHtjtPPuQbNIoXBj200w7ocOI9egh5EvtCQ/s1600/135-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
jenny lay back on her bed in her little room in the attic of the boarding house. she knew she wasn’t going to get to sleep.
<p>
she had given cindy the books she owned but she had a book from the library - night has a thousand eyes, by george hopley - and she tried to read it, but could not concentrate.
<p>
she was thinking about the storm, but even more about the three new guests. especially cindy. jenny started daydreaming about somehow going away with cindy - just the two of them, leaving cindy’s two crumbbum men friends behind - going away to some place like new york or frisco or hollywood….
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiMidhxZtOkYxmccsteiuKi_rbvIdIMGUCi1DNTYP7gMfk_1i3XLsz1_JuHeHzgoIPi89nmdlk1Z49sX5BU9zBDTcpVS1NIqkbEWLo0cbdS06wd2toK4XhD0o43WqsIDidWo70uLMS9jA/s1600/135-games-r.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihiMidhxZtOkYxmccsteiuKi_rbvIdIMGUCi1DNTYP7gMfk_1i3XLsz1_JuHeHzgoIPi89nmdlk1Z49sX5BU9zBDTcpVS1NIqkbEWLo0cbdS06wd2toK4XhD0o43WqsIDidWo70uLMS9jA/s1600/135-games-r.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
suddenly she heard a couple of clicks against her window.
<p>
then another.
<p>
somebody with a practiced hand…
<p>
she got up and stood in front of the window for a few seconds so whoever was down there would see her silhouette and not toss up any more stones.
<p>
she opened the window.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-10.html"><font color = "red">part 10 </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>
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<br>
<center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oNENAklQHOY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>
rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-89706273759625813772016-08-04T13:10:00.000-07:002016-08-12T08:30:49.902-07:00games, part 8<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-7.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "tan" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTg1q5pVIunDWPSx8QzUom-HgpriLWfMR24EgpO6l3Cf2fNw_XTwqHbcAHQKidGAattNbWhq6bYi0bTMS5mnrqOVDSBzCyjTzS1BYGKSUsn3SPvbFHOLiRAeLYN7kwf6HWsQwWUYc0b2g/s1600/134-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTg1q5pVIunDWPSx8QzUom-HgpriLWfMR24EgpO6l3Cf2fNw_XTwqHbcAHQKidGAattNbWhq6bYi0bTMS5mnrqOVDSBzCyjTzS1BYGKSUsn3SPvbFHOLiRAeLYN7kwf6HWsQwWUYc0b2g/s1600/134-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMe3yKZtBug-USZ24ZhwcG9rP_vd4yA6Lwe-MiVuDDpy2PgL736mIopsrF4YuSYtDIg4m1PWPN7hHek4Us1tNXrR4RghgRVd1bVBUC8A4siCMCPAyeFvTyHnDVEaAM45zAJwoviJwzfVg/s1600/134-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwMe3yKZtBug-USZ24ZhwcG9rP_vd4yA6Lwe-MiVuDDpy2PgL736mIopsrF4YuSYtDIg4m1PWPN7hHek4Us1tNXrR4RghgRVd1bVBUC8A4siCMCPAyeFvTyHnDVEaAM45zAJwoviJwzfVg/s1600/134-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<font color = "black">the boarding house was quiet.
<p>
brenda had taken cindy up to her room on the third floor. cindy had not asked any questions, or spoken at all, which was good.
<p>
brenda switched the light on and cindy sat down on the big double bed which took up most of the room and took out her cigarettes.
<p>
there was an ashtray on a table beside the bed and brenda pointed to it. “there’s an ashtray there. you can smoke but try not to set the place on fire.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFR7BqePj9j03auqhKVy0GE4Wjz3TTssxnaBhSzFtludNPI3KSlgX5NG35dO8Dtx9XqjhMJZg1vm6ba-w1zrR_6jnzojGDEAnFmi_mzNX4Pj3VchX7moSvx_fRnYNjn9pbuBbC_MgVjppY/s1600/134-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFR7BqePj9j03auqhKVy0GE4Wjz3TTssxnaBhSzFtludNPI3KSlgX5NG35dO8Dtx9XqjhMJZg1vm6ba-w1zrR_6jnzojGDEAnFmi_mzNX4Pj3VchX7moSvx_fRnYNjn9pbuBbC_MgVjppY/s1600/134-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, ma’am.” the table had a drawer in it and cindy reached over and pulled it open.
<p>
it was empty.
<p>
“you got a bible?” cindy asked brenda.
<p>
“a <i>bible</i>? you want a bible?”
<p>
“yeah, sometimes there’s bibles in places like this. it’s something to read, that’s all.”
<p>
“you just want something to read?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hj_ePPJlPTrUXBA0JU5-Un95gzIjenRjmM5hzk-LSrAvPDYDErl5yeozSzOKY1-MVKyKxMwyeoaUpyh8PDf3Io8xLfomxPJ4laya_4ie0jHlBmrBBtNNIoudgX6znVDipIX-SF1YO1yW/s1600/134-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hj_ePPJlPTrUXBA0JU5-Un95gzIjenRjmM5hzk-LSrAvPDYDErl5yeozSzOKY1-MVKyKxMwyeoaUpyh8PDf3Io8xLfomxPJ4laya_4ie0jHlBmrBBtNNIoudgX6znVDipIX-SF1YO1yW/s1600/134-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“if you got anything.” cindy lit her cigarette, placed the match carefully in the ashtray and leaned back on the bed.
<p>
“i got a few books. i got <i>anthony adverse</i>, if you want that. and a couple of mystery books, the case of the this and that.”
<p>
cindy yawned. “that sounds good. i don’t mean to put you to any trouble.”
<p>
“no trouble. i’ll have jenny bring you the books. you want anything else?”
<p>
“no, thank you.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUH2hXwDy0lXw6xazW4ZMTyvYP7qrc_ZKGinxmQEZZqvrkhZWzqCXtqtZdQlAOhFmUgjC6hZu1ya2k6GWijKqGiiNY0jbCNgXUEym55a0lANoQtdja1x7SK3jD_3Xmd1xDnLGaS2mfJJd/s1600/134-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaUH2hXwDy0lXw6xazW4ZMTyvYP7qrc_ZKGinxmQEZZqvrkhZWzqCXtqtZdQlAOhFmUgjC6hZu1ya2k6GWijKqGiiNY0jbCNgXUEym55a0lANoQtdja1x7SK3jD_3Xmd1xDnLGaS2mfJJd/s1600/134-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
brenda started to leave and cindy asked, “this place filled up?”
<p>
“pretty much, why?”
<p>
“it just seems quiet.”
<p>
“it’s late. and my regular guests are hard working folks who need a good night’s sleep.”
<p>
“yeah. just asking, that’s all.”
<p>
brenda went out and closed the door softly behind her.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjyHkXsnw1m7se4gXuCOV8R4BwYxOoBL7hCPC92LAMoLbmWbxOkgjCR8qEGtmLmmHp0UMiMHDXShyAZoGvU1_NdtYyJ-is4DtQADPw7eeAsHW30fU35JOIrIjhrSBzzBjia4mnEPbc-WH/s1600/134-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjyHkXsnw1m7se4gXuCOV8R4BwYxOoBL7hCPC92LAMoLbmWbxOkgjCR8qEGtmLmmHp0UMiMHDXShyAZoGvU1_NdtYyJ-is4DtQADPw7eeAsHW30fU35JOIrIjhrSBzzBjia4mnEPbc-WH/s1600/134-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
then she went into her own room, next door. one reason she had personally escorted cindy up to the room was that she wanted to duck into her own room and stash away the two five dollar bills hal had given her.
<p>
she put one of the fives between the pages of the telephone book beside her bed. she unscrewed the knob on one of the posts on her bed and slipped the other five inside the bed post.
<p>
she did not really expect any trouble from hal and duke or anybody else but she stashed the money like this out of long habit.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4cZLrJZqqJD4buwHkelnpAkdh7HE_Vnl1Bm27rTizMN89DS2rJefTWXNg1nYTXljNnADd8-frfSHfbaoo058THlo-tMTXA_Oq873QyJFkmcvrmMGlsF2B9QJmGvj0E3JSR-ZoBR8Amlc/s1600/134-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4cZLrJZqqJD4buwHkelnpAkdh7HE_Vnl1Bm27rTizMN89DS2rJefTWXNg1nYTXljNnADd8-frfSHfbaoo058THlo-tMTXA_Oq873QyJFkmcvrmMGlsF2B9QJmGvj0E3JSR-ZoBR8Amlc/s1600/134-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she went over to the window and lifted it up a little to get a breath of air.
<p>
the night was completely still. but she knew that did not mean a storm wasn’t coming.
<p>
she went back downstairs. she found hal seated at the kitchen table by himself.
<p>
“where’s your pal?” brenda asked him.
<p>
“he’s sacked out. he needs his beauty sleep.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6newpVOa62n9I6Ze_3OO5ZyS5pfxOG-kdLya-uwdHDaUdIAUE1xk5WUjthao_p8z-K7mLGufaPJ_hSgoP6rNpGiCLJ6kSVYVjy-ul9vzSYvD9is1l8uCPEN3qbNefJ0q-usXqDozjR0C/s1600/134-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC6newpVOa62n9I6Ze_3OO5ZyS5pfxOG-kdLya-uwdHDaUdIAUE1xk5WUjthao_p8z-K7mLGufaPJ_hSgoP6rNpGiCLJ6kSVYVjy-ul9vzSYvD9is1l8uCPEN3qbNefJ0q-usXqDozjR0C/s1600/134-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“it’s late.”
<p>
“it ain’t as late as all that. i think i’ll go out for a little walk. if that’s all right with you.”
<p>
“suit yourself. but that storm could hit any minute.”
<p>
“i been wet before. you going to be up for awhile, to let me in?’
<p>
“a little while.” brenda knew there was no point in telling hal he had to be back at a certain time or he would be locked out. she could see he was the type who would just bang and bang and bang and scream and holler until somebody let him in.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjag6VSrkhc4OvOZZFcSDZOffJUz9bb1HtTZ-FJfS0N6pVvfZUmxOiT4-pnqTSVeKEfotFpD0b84dQ3V8qql12KdITkLsSs0Mvl9FkT-VASVkVGtET7o1BwSg8ebU-dr5p9IoX1awqLEId-/s1600/134-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjag6VSrkhc4OvOZZFcSDZOffJUz9bb1HtTZ-FJfS0N6pVvfZUmxOiT4-pnqTSVeKEfotFpD0b84dQ3V8qql12KdITkLsSs0Mvl9FkT-VASVkVGtET7o1BwSg8ebU-dr5p9IoX1awqLEId-/s1600/134-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you could stay up and listen to the radio,” said hal. “hear if the storm is really coming.”
<p>
brenda shrugged. “it’s either coming or it isn’t.”
<p>
hal made no move to get up. “say, it’s awful quiet in this place.”
<p>
“it’s late. maybe not for you but for the honest working folks who have to get up in the morning.”
<p>
hal laughed. “hey, i’m honest too. it’s not my fault i’m just between jobs right now.”
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd3DzB9bliJyVOlJzGrNsBftiYkcHpk6Yj5nP66kWhzZPo8tbtMkT97RiF5r9Tp7gcTwM1fu8KT0OxBZoQ5nvnsza1fhm7EXZa2mnyrbNiJ9CVPl9znh14WLFiCZ-lEDW3YFr-SJJoJCpE/s1600/134-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd3DzB9bliJyVOlJzGrNsBftiYkcHpk6Yj5nP66kWhzZPo8tbtMkT97RiF5r9Tp7gcTwM1fu8KT0OxBZoQ5nvnsza1fhm7EXZa2mnyrbNiJ9CVPl9znh14WLFiCZ-lEDW3YFr-SJJoJCpE/s1600/134-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
“right. maybe you better shake your leg if you want to get your exercise before the storm hits.”
<p>
<center>*</center>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutbQC-DrME1Vu3zehahRwuchIClcvxiskmFx1Nw0VhgSLefcDOBhsg2X7LTzb3LFBWHIZrWVwrhrGdjV3mpV2t_aVWvLgAlxmEhIi_-OoymLuCPogr5aPMCtBvS_c5FCby8vMdyzxUpgD/s1600/134-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutbQC-DrME1Vu3zehahRwuchIClcvxiskmFx1Nw0VhgSLefcDOBhsg2X7LTzb3LFBWHIZrWVwrhrGdjV3mpV2t_aVWvLgAlxmEhIi_-OoymLuCPogr5aPMCtBvS_c5FCby8vMdyzxUpgD/s1600/134-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
jenny rapped on cindy’s door.
<p>
“come in.”
<p>
jenny went in. cindy was lying on the bed. her little suitcase was at the foot of the bed but looked like it had not been opened.
<p>
“here’s those books you wanted.” jenny showed cindy the copies of <i>anthony adverse</i> and <i>the case of the howling dog</i> and <i>the case of the stuttering bishop</i> by erle stanley gardner.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaJ60p4fnhVEPRl3amWraM_CZo8kr4FQ0CF_oq8OgkKCldl0tlLZc6Dv2CBwdme6OSISSefXp6sAvlJoRuts193WXFLSzxY5rg7NpN95QM3vxuXuNzaevObJ7VIds7a_erWYlxoK96izc/s1600/134-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaJ60p4fnhVEPRl3amWraM_CZo8kr4FQ0CF_oq8OgkKCldl0tlLZc6Dv2CBwdme6OSISSefXp6sAvlJoRuts193WXFLSzxY5rg7NpN95QM3vxuXuNzaevObJ7VIds7a_erWYlxoK96izc/s1600/134-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“thanks. just leave them there.”
<p>
jenny was a little disappointed that cindy did not seem more talkative. she put the books down. there was a pack of old golds on the little table.
<p>
“can i have a cigarette?” she asked cindy.
<p>
“they will stunt your growth.”
<p>
“i am already big enough.”
<p>
cindy laughed. “oh well, in that case help yourself.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTYikssABj9ry4dqpqJL0bKWoGO4rfw0Z_0CijhHptMTu-WHXhpZhuL_Gswx73kemC5xn1qi3sN3GJF7fRN_e5vgEsZ2x8JOxAo5cdK2x5eEzuMgztdD0O9pjMLBym63CL4nFmLqQZB3j/s1600/134-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTYikssABj9ry4dqpqJL0bKWoGO4rfw0Z_0CijhHptMTu-WHXhpZhuL_Gswx73kemC5xn1qi3sN3GJF7fRN_e5vgEsZ2x8JOxAo5cdK2x5eEzuMgztdD0O9pjMLBym63CL4nFmLqQZB3j/s1600/134-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
jenny slipped a cigarette out of the pack. “you got a match?”
<p>
there was a book of matches on the bed beside cindy and she tossed them to jenny.
<p>
“there isn't much to do in this town,” said jenny.
<p>
“no, i don’t expect there is.”</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-9.html"><font color = "red">part 9 </font></a></center>
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<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
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</td></tr></table>
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<br>
<center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SVBpB7rSn7A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-18933609160114373402016-07-29T05:32:00.001-07:002016-08-04T13:11:32.721-07:00games, part 7<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-6.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
<br>
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<p>
<font color = "black">jenny was sensitive .
<p>
not sensitive like she cried over dead birds or cats, or sensitive like she cared what anybody thought about her, but sensitive like she sensed things other people did not, things she could not see or hear.
<p>
lying in bed in her little room in the attic of the boarding house, she felt that something was going to happen.
<p>
something… a little bit different, at least.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGhC72_YPnb3wntgB0JgppRmXRpBjK_qMNn0Bs4PcfJROXekQbC-i64qFvykQ3IedzXRT9Td1lVqROXST3NF8P37nSwKkL6MNliOV0eVXVR2S2GVMoAxrUKA3qgXDdrgR3JJ5Bn4RlPU9/s1600/133-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIGhC72_YPnb3wntgB0JgppRmXRpBjK_qMNn0Bs4PcfJROXekQbC-i64qFvykQ3IedzXRT9Td1lVqROXST3NF8P37nSwKkL6MNliOV0eVXVR2S2GVMoAxrUKA3qgXDdrgR3JJ5Bn4RlPU9/s1600/133-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she got up and looked out the window into the dark street below.
<p>
a car came by. it didn’t stop.
<p>
after a few minutes another car came by and it didn’t stop.
<p>
maybe nothing was going to happen after all.
<p>
jenny pushed the window about halfway up.
<p>
there was supposed to be a big storm coming but she didn’t feel anything.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQYBDqSnmQG2kJn2NJXNlvh2TDALWj7JoD5cdExsPSN6__yv3nMkyVaqJQl1OgYmoGnTmzk9z3O-rJY5K9JX3GHbqORS70-o6e1TlOubR-f6Ot80gJhcxT0lH8IaMckUWGdCRVZBi52BV/s1600/133-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQYBDqSnmQG2kJn2NJXNlvh2TDALWj7JoD5cdExsPSN6__yv3nMkyVaqJQl1OgYmoGnTmzk9z3O-rJY5K9JX3GHbqORS70-o6e1TlOubR-f6Ot80gJhcxT0lH8IaMckUWGdCRVZBi52BV/s1600/133-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
which was too bad because a big storm would be fun, or at least a break in the monotony.
<p>
she was leaning out the window when another car came along. a dark blue packard sedan. this one stopped in front of the boarding house.
<p>
jenny leaned out further. her light was off so it wasn’t likely the people getting out of the car would look up and see her.
<p>
a man got out of the driver’s seat and a woman out of the front passenger seat.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WXEj0cU8HpJB-Ykx914XUcX4YTLpR3DzInTyXgbvGZctGdR-7mSP6HKbmpiAFeLfb0gAutdZgU-CX19SZ-k9w-jJ-9yGssrJkjY-e7e79BGxIrWEMkDtcq42bJQGC-FlxQh2RLHa-raE/s1600/133-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WXEj0cU8HpJB-Ykx914XUcX4YTLpR3DzInTyXgbvGZctGdR-7mSP6HKbmpiAFeLfb0gAutdZgU-CX19SZ-k9w-jJ-9yGssrJkjY-e7e79BGxIrWEMkDtcq42bJQGC-FlxQh2RLHa-raE/s1600/133-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
another, bigger man got out of the back seat.
<p>
the first man was taking his time looking up and down the dark street.
<p>
what is he looking for, thought jenny. he looks sneaky and guilty, and he is too dumb to know he looks guilty.
<p>
they must be crooks.
<p>
the woman lit a cigarette. she and the bigger man just stood there not saying anything as the first man walked out into the street and kept looking up and down it.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4p6dR16wdnS64EUTKq4k1-KuWaeQE9AOAGnbzFUL5vcidXNkKPJjnSjflVRA1ObZmzQpinWuNpK7SeUdIBd5RiO4dhkk9Td0Xki5PJ8M3PlgB4Bsdv0x5KqCPtkOTZF6V9p0fF5ZB2oK/s1600/133-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY4p6dR16wdnS64EUTKq4k1-KuWaeQE9AOAGnbzFUL5vcidXNkKPJjnSjflVRA1ObZmzQpinWuNpK7SeUdIBd5RiO4dhkk9Td0Xki5PJ8M3PlgB4Bsdv0x5KqCPtkOTZF6V9p0fF5ZB2oK/s1600/133-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
they are crooks for sure, thought jenny. the big guy is the dumb one, taking orders from the not quite so dumb one.
<p>
she wondered if they would ring the bell. and if brenda would take them in if they did. probably not.
<p>
the doorbell rang. it was always loud and could be heard all through the house, but this was really loud, like it was being pushed hard and held down.
<p>
jenny closed the window and left the room and went down the stairs.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMSs0PaPx-M68NRGdeMRGs8v_kKfFqM7mjmoeMKrKqpC9Gf1s_Vlye49YG6uTc8IkznfD6fYhyhvxfyl7CS926upERp0cDFtGNq801bOjnIX7DN4w7HCpcQQ-C9jOZr95DW1Hp6anbb-W/s1600/133-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMSs0PaPx-M68NRGdeMRGs8v_kKfFqM7mjmoeMKrKqpC9Gf1s_Vlye49YG6uTc8IkznfD6fYhyhvxfyl7CS926upERp0cDFtGNq801bOjnIX7DN4w7HCpcQQ-C9jOZr95DW1Hp6anbb-W/s1600/133-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
quietly, like she always did.
<p>
jenny was naturally nosey and a first class sneak, and had been listening at doors and sometimes under windows since she was old enough to stand on two legs.
<p>
she moved to the door of the “front parlor” and put her ear to it. sure enough, brenda was giving the trio a hard time, or at least starting to drive a hard bargain.
<p>
jenny did not hear brenda use her favorite word - “respectable” - but she did hear one off the men say something like - “come on, lady -“.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OmMef3CX-ls9dFf9td2pJ_5WHtLpKjUnMzs0r3-uwXMTnKnxsOmimxi-I3WwaJdXmm_TLlZMr7PJjpmK82Jj6GzeTQ7XLCecm2Do_b8k_u9dwZelWwftckBS2DIKO0QpUV-AuqipoB9S/s1600/133-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OmMef3CX-ls9dFf9td2pJ_5WHtLpKjUnMzs0r3-uwXMTnKnxsOmimxi-I3WwaJdXmm_TLlZMr7PJjpmK82Jj6GzeTQ7XLCecm2Do_b8k_u9dwZelWwftckBS2DIKO0QpUV-AuqipoB9S/s1600/133-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“lady”. like a wise guy or hoodlum, and not “ma’am”, like a gentleman, which of course brenda would much prefer.
<p>
jenny was right. brenda did not like the looks of <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html"><font color = "red"">hal and duke and cindy</font></a> one bit. not one little bit.
<p>
cheap two-bit hoods. it was as plain as the label on a bottle of heinz ketchup.
<p>
and on most nights she would have sent them on their way without a second thought.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYMuVvYSuQHcQDixH4yPqOnWkBJ6mdFrAu9v0y_UdzE7MlWIiDO3gQNaZ6od4vGbf2WRlEycXPLeUEqzGBpjdUr0fHmZDBRUmS7-VJE9c0zhyIwpqBbqojiUqUOzv0BHivdc0LFV3UB1u/s1600/133-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYMuVvYSuQHcQDixH4yPqOnWkBJ6mdFrAu9v0y_UdzE7MlWIiDO3gQNaZ6od4vGbf2WRlEycXPLeUEqzGBpjdUr0fHmZDBRUmS7-VJE9c0zhyIwpqBbqojiUqUOzv0BHivdc0LFV3UB1u/s1600/133-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
but tonight two things held her back.
<p>
one, she could really use the money. business had been slow through the summer, and mister johnson the grocer was being a pest about what she owed.
<p>
and second, she felt hal was telling the truth that they only wanted to stay one night, and were only stopping because of the big storm. hal seemed genuinely annoyed to have to pay to put up at all.
<p>
“this is a respectable place,” brenda told hal, and behind the door jenny smirked at the familiar line.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1LyNIxZ_-DBFkGJ7dWpNWOxp2HZwosdu7gte5RZ2bRjuFcibhlfE-qdimGw6dkw3uPWcxq0I0FtzNuozWvr-8zUZ4ITprhIst2F5NfJTcdYoCOzh8ZsFTWqiEhn__fajfyM39Q3Kohaw/s1600/133-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1LyNIxZ_-DBFkGJ7dWpNWOxp2HZwosdu7gte5RZ2bRjuFcibhlfE-qdimGw6dkw3uPWcxq0I0FtzNuozWvr-8zUZ4ITprhIst2F5NfJTcdYoCOzh8ZsFTWqiEhn__fajfyM39Q3Kohaw/s1600/133-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“we wouldn’t want to stay in any other kind of place,” cindy drawled. there was a little fireplace in the parlor and she moved over and knocked her long cigarette ash into it.
<p>
“and i wouldn’t want my sister staying anywhere else,” hal added.
<p>
“i got a room with a double bed here on the first floor behind the kitchen. you two fellows can stay there. and i got a room on the third floor, right beside my own. it’s a double too, but your <i>sister</i> can have it - for full price.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmZynR7nBKjs-dz7HbMd7jGgw5a75Qro6OLs21_9aaIAniWViE25sqwbRmAg9zzLbTggKZ40d8j1mfwCKz2QjAi_5MbCAReVGvMVAsScKeB6HW7N-PHVTLLP3uI6hfspbvgzOw1hHI4Wf/s1600/133-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmZynR7nBKjs-dz7HbMd7jGgw5a75Qro6OLs21_9aaIAniWViE25sqwbRmAg9zzLbTggKZ40d8j1mfwCKz2QjAi_5MbCAReVGvMVAsScKeB6HW7N-PHVTLLP3uI6hfspbvgzOw1hHI4Wf/s1600/133-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“that’s fine, lady,” hal told her. “we got no problems with all that. but what’s the damage? the price?”
<p>
“five dollars for a double room. for each room, so that will be ten dollars.”
<p>
“ten bucks! ten bucks! are you kidding me?” hal looked around at cindy and duke. “hey, i thought we were on our way to simmonsville, i guess we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in monte carlo.”
<p>
“that’s the price,” brenda repeated firmly. “it’s up to you.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdjF5934lCG1hccnSeV4lq-W4mdsWNR7SAuk0gH9gfoJ7OtJ4Vl2vCBoBiJxdWXM34tGtj6wNnxnkCYHQKGfR4nWPqkCphcQfIK-ZzEy21bVlYaWJl6l1aQQ4sESHEDaST7CCjiq307GO/s1600/133-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdjF5934lCG1hccnSeV4lq-W4mdsWNR7SAuk0gH9gfoJ7OtJ4Vl2vCBoBiJxdWXM34tGtj6wNnxnkCYHQKGfR4nWPqkCphcQfIK-ZzEy21bVlYaWJl6l1aQQ4sESHEDaST7CCjiq307GO/s1600/133-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
duke spoke for the first time. “do we get anything to eat for our ten bucks? do we get fed?”
<p>
“yes, i’ll feed you,” benda replied. “i’ll give you all a nice big breakfast in the morning - the best in town - and then you can be on your way.”
<p>
“that sounds good,” hal said. “but, come on, ten bucks - “
<p>
“don’t forget the pie,” said a voice behind brenda.
<p>
jenny had come into the room. they all stared at her.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXrtd49MjLQq2bshTBE821lYQjAoyQAaJmBQ4KDiYzhqLu_kf_5cPH7oCuCcyn-QuOd_QvIw6EyUcc5nI0AUHc9_ff3uxB2DiRlPnFq4Ey9Nbgke7ae22ZDWxp-YuM5-Qj5rn8iwB9xt5/s1600/133-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXrtd49MjLQq2bshTBE821lYQjAoyQAaJmBQ4KDiYzhqLu_kf_5cPH7oCuCcyn-QuOd_QvIw6EyUcc5nI0AUHc9_ff3uxB2DiRlPnFq4Ey9Nbgke7ae22ZDWxp-YuM5-Qj5rn8iwB9xt5/s1600/133-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“for your money,” jenny continued, “you will each get a big slice of pie with your breakfast. the best pies in the county and they are famous all over the state.”
<p>
hal, cindy, and duke all looked at each other and laughed. “that sounds great, kid,” hal said. “you are quite the salesman, aren’t you? you are lost in this small town. you should be selling watches on broadway, or up at the north pole with santa claus selling ice cream cones to the eskimos.”
<p>
“do you want the rooms or not?” brenda asked.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfVlsFrJ6TXkUp2XKAnguYGG6Fp06Az6sdMPYyGCGXl6klW8AnL8cTNQFnixLndytmlsXCf7AlXidZw6uOk9OM7_PeHZK4PKjvQ2RNFFKmLHDTRdlZxYiT64brkeqgbeLgCCXBHz1BRxv/s1600/133-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfVlsFrJ6TXkUp2XKAnguYGG6Fp06Az6sdMPYyGCGXl6klW8AnL8cTNQFnixLndytmlsXCf7AlXidZw6uOk9OM7_PeHZK4PKjvQ2RNFFKmLHDTRdlZxYiT64brkeqgbeLgCCXBHz1BRxv/s1600/133-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yeah, we’ll stay, we’ll stay. the kid here sold us.” hal nodded to duke and tossed him the car keys. “get the bags.”
<p>
“cash up front,” said brenda.
<p>
“sure, sure.” hal reached into his pocket. “that’s how i always like it myself. cash up front. it’s the only way. and we’ll all have sweet dreams tonight. won’t we, sis?”
<p>
“that’s right,” said cindy. “we’ll be dreaming about those pies.” she flicked her cigarette into the fireplace and looked at jenny. “what kind of pies you got anyway, honey?”
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhiK4iYwoWg6togAdx_rCVJ2zUh-AtxD_Tkplo1HIPBG5frUFC5h7pK0G38BhAC78Ycb2sitX2wUvuXFyz2btKkiwzdm7G9R_e2_-hlZmN6XOZoTShEWIPRSH7Gn5nMHEkZPOxdoCAx8J/s1600/133-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhiK4iYwoWg6togAdx_rCVJ2zUh-AtxD_Tkplo1HIPBG5frUFC5h7pK0G38BhAC78Ycb2sitX2wUvuXFyz2btKkiwzdm7G9R_e2_-hlZmN6XOZoTShEWIPRSH7Gn5nMHEkZPOxdoCAx8J/s1600/133-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
“all kinds. but apple and blueberry are our best,” jenny answered.
<p>
“that’s good. apple is my favorite. i was miss apple harvest back in my home town.”</font>
<br>
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<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/08/games-part-8.html"><font color = "red">part 8 </font></a></center>
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<center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1rarB03T390" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-75247171484423148992016-07-21T14:10:00.000-07:002016-07-29T05:33:44.848-07:00games, part 6<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "green" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghn32FGxR5BQecFvjyBJ6iaGB-mKe7MXC95LiIC640-dlHo4fn9q-FcdAqTH48zLrOK4CqQqIYrDiY5CJoK1vh1Qeb7slISf3PBGpVILgBcw4sxHj852elXZLULI_W6X_xnl-610pJ-khi/s1600/132-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" width = "400" height = "300"
src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghn32FGxR5BQecFvjyBJ6iaGB-mKe7MXC95LiIC640-dlHo4fn9q-FcdAqTH48zLrOK4CqQqIYrDiY5CJoK1vh1Qeb7slISf3PBGpVILgBcw4sxHj852elXZLULI_W6X_xnl-610pJ-khi/s1600/132-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
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<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivaIrVPrD0L8OXloRFfCsizY09VvH_NJbWeTd42vvfErh3ibL5GT4JX5yGvzK1SNCNN9arhAcoJeGKvlgdYpBpecXi2b9L2NGHWiFAXfKJ5NTKvuPl5pxhrTRBATqlMA01WqPvMR1hKrFO/s1600/132-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivaIrVPrD0L8OXloRFfCsizY09VvH_NJbWeTd42vvfErh3ibL5GT4JX5yGvzK1SNCNN9arhAcoJeGKvlgdYpBpecXi2b9L2NGHWiFAXfKJ5NTKvuPl5pxhrTRBATqlMA01WqPvMR1hKrFO/s1600/132-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<font color = "black">jenny was restless, as she usually was when she didn’t have enough to do.
<p>
of course if she had anything to do, she would be complaining about it.
<p>
on the whole, mrs baxter preferred jenny complaining to jenny with nothing to do but sit around and sulk.
<p>
and think.
<p>
think about the stuff dreams are made of.
<p>
like $90,000.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2XxwNj7kZ4DArT4phkkhTr1dIHWL6fCu0Phjy6MbgJ7hMyLRT_JwfQm6jsigT9oGaqYDeXOJeMxYJbTY1sYa1ZfwbE-9pHZh0MfCUPwVP1yLt0tu6Gjm_skN7arciI9PQ-KbOWXsELPi/s1600/132-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2XxwNj7kZ4DArT4phkkhTr1dIHWL6fCu0Phjy6MbgJ7hMyLRT_JwfQm6jsigT9oGaqYDeXOJeMxYJbTY1sYa1ZfwbE-9pHZh0MfCUPwVP1yLt0tu6Gjm_skN7arciI9PQ-KbOWXsELPi/s1600/132-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the $90,000 buried in the cellar of the boarding house.
<p>
the $90,000 mrs baxter’s late husband jeff miller had robbed from the thomasville bank on “bloody tuesday” four long years ago, with his partner ray “frogman” williamson.
<p>
the f b i and the police of six states were still looking for jeff and the frogman, and their unlovely visages could be seen on “wanted” posters throughout the u s a, canada, and mexico.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5yGFktFBouyXv880DR1vBiBibZiyy3IvPCobmSr9W1WTzmjY7O7vpY7wJEqnbXzoSe_cBcG_sCURAmATf8y5BNvVZmqv8oshRF-1s2y4gA77Wmenc_EBvYMGsHMNhhWa135stwW6nKgB/s1600/132-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif5yGFktFBouyXv880DR1vBiBibZiyy3IvPCobmSr9W1WTzmjY7O7vpY7wJEqnbXzoSe_cBcG_sCURAmATf8y5BNvVZmqv8oshRF-1s2y4gA77Wmenc_EBvYMGsHMNhhWa135stwW6nKgB/s1600/132-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
what the lawmen did not know was that jeff and frogman had had a falling out after the robbery, with jeff calling the frogman a hot headed fool and blaming him for the gunfire at the bank.
<p>
frogman had drawn on jeff and shot him dead.
<p>
but then brenda - jeff’s wife - had shot the frogman in the back.
<p>
brenda and her stepdaughter jenny - jeff’s daughter by his first wife - had buried the two defunct desperadoes in the woods behind an abandoned mill a few miles outside harrisville.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qwbVssOYnPCzk0xLb7nvhJ_ljE0_cY7Dd1clen3IebhahIY-2GCp5uYKbNrRvqxRJutww3jQOnlJ_qd4LeCY97ndOHa3TFFdZ06A00Cv4QbogSCOgjAyRSj01rEOPNiOJjUSZ8K6-9pY/s1600/132-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qwbVssOYnPCzk0xLb7nvhJ_ljE0_cY7Dd1clen3IebhahIY-2GCp5uYKbNrRvqxRJutww3jQOnlJ_qd4LeCY97ndOHa3TFFdZ06A00Cv4QbogSCOgjAyRSj01rEOPNiOJjUSZ8K6-9pY/s1600/132-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
and made off with the $90,000.
<p>
they hitched a ride to the next town and caught a bus to bainville, two states over.
<p>
brenda had never even heard of bainville, did not know anybody there, and nobody knew her.
<p>
at the time jenny was only thirteen years old, a not very bright but docile child who did not seem at all broken up by jeff’s death and was content to go along and get along with brenda.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_7Ijobrgbt1xssK3RWEbt4V1GjIJcLTIXCc-P5dv-WgTj3Se9ko0OH5t9VP-TN8YrPuUBveTRsjcgTcL642RLWH4rvjEPyUl2dQL2MJbHFDkVO4ws3qcry6R923Jlolvw7ZDWPXTQzNI/s1600/132-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_7Ijobrgbt1xssK3RWEbt4V1GjIJcLTIXCc-P5dv-WgTj3Se9ko0OH5t9VP-TN8YrPuUBveTRsjcgTcL642RLWH4rvjEPyUl2dQL2MJbHFDkVO4ws3qcry6R923Jlolvw7ZDWPXTQzNI/s1600/132-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
brenda knew enough not to call attention to themselves by spending the money in an ostentatious manner.
<p>
she had a little money of her own saved up and she peeled off some of the older looking bills from the robbery and bought a house in bainville and set it up as a boarding house.
<p>
she decided to call herself the widow “mrs baxter”. jenny kept the name “jenny miller”. it was a common enough name and brenda was afraid she might forget to use a new one.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiXTjBbnmBxMbZ2te-dXhFkZPmQBjVLLMVCGMGjbuzy3Rc2DwEv8TCZYUgfdiCgYo875R9Ku0OG3qtKwpUaZ8dPqDWW3b_GB-mloHKuKaKrSDOOjtfG500TeCOcmpGXZJ0Jax5gRUhQyPx/s1600/132-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiXTjBbnmBxMbZ2te-dXhFkZPmQBjVLLMVCGMGjbuzy3Rc2DwEv8TCZYUgfdiCgYo875R9Ku0OG3qtKwpUaZ8dPqDWW3b_GB-mloHKuKaKrSDOOjtfG500TeCOcmpGXZJ0Jax5gRUhQyPx/s1600/132-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
brenda thought some of the money from the bank might be “hot” and traceable and a story she read in the <i>st louis post-dispatch</i> seemed to confirm her fears.
<p>
so brenda and jenny wrapped the money up in several layers of burlap and buried it in the cellar of the boarding house.
<p>
the boarding house prospered.
<p>
it became known for two things.
<p>
one, its respectability. brenda did not want any riffraff or hoodlums who might recognize her coming around so she tried to cut down on the possibility of such an occurrence by making it known that “respectable” was not just a word with her but something she took seriously.
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqd74qFrP30kwK_tQmfMolkBiuIZ2cmqvbmkaK2jN-12m2MozpmCtZQIfkoqlTGr7aYyHHrtqMXwA02cEAFne9VavkqS0JN_pAwwHjPhjGVbVt8qPXm6ZI_16qo1TBHGE-9uJ5WUO12v_/s1600/132-games-g-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqd74qFrP30kwK_tQmfMolkBiuIZ2cmqvbmkaK2jN-12m2MozpmCtZQIfkoqlTGr7aYyHHrtqMXwA02cEAFne9VavkqS0JN_pAwwHjPhjGVbVt8qPXm6ZI_16qo1TBHGE-9uJ5WUO12v_/s1600/132-games-g-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<p>
and the other thing the boarding house became known for was “mrs baxter”’s pies, especially her apple and blueberry pies.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWwMI3LAh3F14T2nnBSPdZVuOUXcUA_N5JVZYs3Q5579FFG5FWppPZXLsMs-Zbnv83LtFTgFWn_a-m7iW3-R76M4NaBNWLYbgNlOCH9hJkK1cMbR3X-XWfjXrLrjkUl2gjjfoU_cJvKGB/s1600/132-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWwMI3LAh3F14T2nnBSPdZVuOUXcUA_N5JVZYs3Q5579FFG5FWppPZXLsMs-Zbnv83LtFTgFWn_a-m7iW3-R76M4NaBNWLYbgNlOCH9hJkK1cMbR3X-XWfjXrLrjkUl2gjjfoU_cJvKGB/s1600/132-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the pies became a profitable sideline. however, brenda had to make them herself, as jenny was useless at baking them or cooking or baking much of anything.
<p>
brenda wore her hair in a tight bun, did not use lipstick or makeup, and put on thirty pounds eating her own famous pies. she grew confident that no one would recognize her as the notorious gunman jeff miller’s “moll”.
<p>
jenny was a sullen but not rebellious teenager. she attended the local schools but did not make any friends. she was lazy and never did the simplest things without being told.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbSferykrDGPQOWT7VTOFtkH3PIdHb6tWAC8_SzzhdWxKJKpnDZQ4cAs-7gL4hS9qbgWxTwqGi1opoNPasHfPjPbw_JAau88lec7xSSKE9gkbKZQ_VuAB8h3fF-LoKQTo2thjFD-F_FCx/s1600/132-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbSferykrDGPQOWT7VTOFtkH3PIdHb6tWAC8_SzzhdWxKJKpnDZQ4cAs-7gL4hS9qbgWxTwqGi1opoNPasHfPjPbw_JAau88lec7xSSKE9gkbKZQ_VuAB8h3fF-LoKQTo2thjFD-F_FCx/s1600/132-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
it was her job to make the beds but she had to be told every day, “jenny, make the beds”.
<p>
brenda gave jenny a small allowance and she spent it mostly on nail polish and eye liner.
<p>
jenny had no use for boys. her only real vice was occasionally swiping and smoking brenda’s cigarettes.
<p>
she smoked the cigarettes in the basement, down with the buried loot.
<p>
there was a little cot down there, to be brought upstairs if a guest with children showed up, and jenny would lie on it and puff brenda’s herbert tareytons and daydream.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWrTPIhdOHnefJsPakEe2CV9tOtFRPh_l1ssvnuiLuEo34-RYfvujLsVjVGuQjY9nLV4fDAUc1OkCmQrStSMcTShNmAAqVRsDGrNaMNs9tBO2lWR3buLETliUKUVzcXT9ROIxGsghT-ox/s1600/132-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQWrTPIhdOHnefJsPakEe2CV9tOtFRPh_l1ssvnuiLuEo34-RYfvujLsVjVGuQjY9nLV4fDAUc1OkCmQrStSMcTShNmAAqVRsDGrNaMNs9tBO2lWR3buLETliUKUVzcXT9ROIxGsghT-ox/s1600/132-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she did not dream about boys or men, but she did dream about having nice things.
<p>
like having a bed for herself big enough for five people, and a closet the size of the state of missouri filled with nice dresses and shoes…
<p>
and right beside her as she dreamed was the stuff to get these things…
<p>
90 grand…
<p>
the stuff dreams were made of….
<p>
and that was how things stood at mrs baxter’s respectable boarding house when hal and duke and cindy showed up.</font>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbwub0WPqWqs-26uqatYMx4JSOLlWLEEmO8ccj1p4H9oMIaLoxvJpuA4XPBFg66SrpQzx5pGISjCoV2NQNKnoUd7JlmC2UcfF2HUpr7olfRqr6fQaOHRYXAM8IABzfQ56curZi-FEevsF/s1600/132-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbwub0WPqWqs-26uqatYMx4JSOLlWLEEmO8ccj1p4H9oMIaLoxvJpuA4XPBFg66SrpQzx5pGISjCoV2NQNKnoUd7JlmC2UcfF2HUpr7olfRqr6fQaOHRYXAM8IABzfQ56curZi-FEevsF/s1600/132-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-7.html"><font color = "red">part 7 </font></a></center>
<br>
<br>
</td></tr></table></center>
<br>
</td></tr></table>
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<center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4orCmvgijn8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-31727250378389524492016-07-15T05:18:00.002-07:002016-07-21T14:11:43.497-07:00games, part 5<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
<br>
<br>
being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
<br>
<br>
illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
<br>
<br>
originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
<br>
<br>
editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
<br>
<br>
for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-4.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
<br>
<br>
to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
<br>
<br>
<table bgcolor = "#200645" width = 520><tr><td>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvDWI1TRuiaij6PwQTTjuf6o3RwXq4eT1BZfC-uPcn2L1vBPnECoM_D4-d00WysJUQwIVMUW33iSzs-e09aVKbEk2A3Y7GQcIQYttPrV-fDMTfEqivaiyRTgKuNZGy_ylqiiaFK_Rdohc6/s1600/131-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvDWI1TRuiaij6PwQTTjuf6o3RwXq4eT1BZfC-uPcn2L1vBPnECoM_D4-d00WysJUQwIVMUW33iSzs-e09aVKbEk2A3Y7GQcIQYttPrV-fDMTfEqivaiyRTgKuNZGy_ylqiiaFK_Rdohc6/s1600/131-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<center><table bgcolor = "white" width = 508><tr><td>
<br>
<p>
<font color = "black"><i>sultry cindy, with her soft curves and man-devouring eyes…
<p>
hal, who liked to call the shots…
<p>
duke, who did not have much to say…</i>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNlXtvIRUir40xBit0TDiHaCRZixsWXIXTZ1kHx85eeVqul5j3SOKl3xQR3DxZmaOPLEEkhx5a-fA20i46_brKr7kTBpdcFVSnyqx8D-QY7dlqa36MEbl_STYLXr-rbQagvFMOLPx70h9/s1600/131-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNlXtvIRUir40xBit0TDiHaCRZixsWXIXTZ1kHx85eeVqul5j3SOKl3xQR3DxZmaOPLEEkhx5a-fA20i46_brKr7kTBpdcFVSnyqx8D-QY7dlqa36MEbl_STYLXr-rbQagvFMOLPx70h9/s1600/131-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
i don’t know, “ said cindy. “it sounds kind of complicated.”
<p>
hal looked at her like he wanted to smack her. but that was how he always looked. “what’s complicated about it?” he tapped his finger on the newspaper on the table in front of him. “‘help wanted. maid of all work’ what’s complicated about that?”
<p>
cindy blew a perfect smoke ring. it drifted up to the rough wooden ceiling of the truck stop. “it doesn’t say what all kind of work it is.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqxcyemZy94mjXaw6ylNy9_7sWM2kvPIM9j2mJ9MOsMGSmW_TT9vOpU_hRyiJdWSAcjap8skfgG4Gx3GL9-wysfbNkbhBW_yWgSm-8fEIGtVAYQCTCtvtS7sDXfS3bZJgmS6gMoUVphhyphenhyphen/s1600/131-games-a-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqxcyemZy94mjXaw6ylNy9_7sWM2kvPIM9j2mJ9MOsMGSmW_TT9vOpU_hRyiJdWSAcjap8skfgG4Gx3GL9-wysfbNkbhBW_yWgSm-8fEIGtVAYQCTCtvtS7sDXfS3bZJgmS6gMoUVphhyphenhyphen/s1600/131-games-a-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“what do you care? doing dishes and making beds, probably. it’s only for a week while we case the joint.”
<p>
cindy blew some more smoke and took a sip of her coffee. “maybe they want me to dig ditches. i ain’t digging no ditches, not even for a week.”
<p>
“if they wanted someone to dig ditches, would they ask for a <i>maid</i>? would they?” hal glanced over at duke. “am i right?”
<p>
“i don’t know, “ duke mumbled. “you see some strange things in want ads. there was this buddy of mine back in memphis and he saw this job for a chauffeur. so he goes out to this big mansion outside of town and do you know what the guy wanted?’
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAL_41hTouv4RqqIpnTV17V3g85sLoLcw6KtVmSgPcrathMr6Q-vHS93BxcwECq4zwk-OOnJcLfe9uOAb_tIKN4cDlmf2NtwrTgwVpPOx-aHwt2vQU5ZR9JOdxWmS34zenSIXAsKPGv1Nf/s1600/131-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAL_41hTouv4RqqIpnTV17V3g85sLoLcw6KtVmSgPcrathMr6Q-vHS93BxcwECq4zwk-OOnJcLfe9uOAb_tIKN4cDlmf2NtwrTgwVpPOx-aHwt2vQU5ZR9JOdxWmS34zenSIXAsKPGv1Nf/s1600/131-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, we do know what he wanted,” hal said. “because you’ve told us that story before.”
<p>
“oh.” duke hung his head. he was always telling the same stories, and saying the same things.
<p>
“and it was disgusting the first time you told it,” cindy added. “so don’t tell it again.”
<p>
“i’m sorry.” duke hung his head lower.
<p>
“don’t be sorry,” hal told him. “she don’t have to talk to you like that. give her a smack if she gives you any more lip like that.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgLMyX802rcRG4zMTn6DcuEARiGg1g5chVNWwphWn1o3095Qo4cK79XxcDpvTtxB615seTyMbFkOEfxeHew0bZaAVSxdkNdDHhJIzeyUuxg9Zm7TwvJVVXXUFpTWsMQWwMeJbV_ytWHMC/s1600/131-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSgLMyX802rcRG4zMTn6DcuEARiGg1g5chVNWwphWn1o3095Qo4cK79XxcDpvTtxB615seTyMbFkOEfxeHew0bZaAVSxdkNdDHhJIzeyUuxg9Zm7TwvJVVXXUFpTWsMQWwMeJbV_ytWHMC/s1600/131-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“heh heh. she’s your girl, hal.” duke edged a little away from cindy.
<p>
“that’s o k, you got my permission.”
<p>
cindy rolled her eyes, and smirked and tapped some ash into the saucer of her coffee cup, but did not say anything.
<p>
the trio were sitting in a booth in the corner of the truck stop, as far away from the waitress behind the counter as they could. although cindy was hal’s girl, she and duke were sitting side by side across from hal, because hal liked room to spread out.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYlc9Qzn78cW_lIttIyHZo6N50xsCxc1edUmDkWfbFQ5tuic7nsYelXx5oz85veZ8YaQ1usNpM-VuLg_Gn5pcCxO_WA10wSdI221aTysdcg1OhTLA0Dc2gwh-7MKN1gRLOBsil1krmuwN/s1600/131-games-e-soft.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYlc9Qzn78cW_lIttIyHZo6N50xsCxc1edUmDkWfbFQ5tuic7nsYelXx5oz85veZ8YaQ1usNpM-VuLg_Gn5pcCxO_WA10wSdI221aTysdcg1OhTLA0Dc2gwh-7MKN1gRLOBsil1krmuwN/s1600/131-games-e-soft.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the truck stop was otherwise empty except for the waitress, who was leaning across the counter reading <i>look</i> magazine.
<p>
suddenly the door opened and a man walked in. the door closed behind him with a wind-blown bang.
<p>
hal looked out the window. there was a car parked down by the highway beside the solitary gas pump. it didn’t have a light on top of it but in the darkness he could just make out the word “sheriff” in faded white letters on the side.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuM5_1IJZ5US3lRYKMpBj3wR2w93kEAFcVAexAIKYRMecfYRsuiiWNaGdj4zWa_R8c80ynEYiMS5XU34WZi5p-l_p-x8I958KrHvOmx-_i8k66KnXB4APgtKdjJg42XM7zHSHQgg7PnBl/s1600/131-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuM5_1IJZ5US3lRYKMpBj3wR2w93kEAFcVAexAIKYRMecfYRsuiiWNaGdj4zWa_R8c80ynEYiMS5XU34WZi5p-l_p-x8I958KrHvOmx-_i8k66KnXB4APgtKdjJg42XM7zHSHQgg7PnBl/s1600/131-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the man who had entered looked like a sheriff, with a bushy but neat mustache and a brown leather jacket with a fur collar. but no badge.
<p>
“evening, sheriff,” the waitress put her <i>look</i> magazine face down in the counter and went over to the coffee machine.
<p>
“evening, samantha.” there was a little glass case on the counter with slices of pie in it and the sheriff opened it and helped himself to a messy looking slice of blueberry pie. then he reached around behind the counter and took out a fork.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWvgEQNECqVkeLaBJw53NMs27GzWFYl8rGyVlQA_8vPZz1aMwKLd6vX5SPuDu0u-DX3477fN-RyaFTl2dohnqZ2_QpKfjFTIsTTqheEsA5LDfwI1rU6kzIYjLeWkC-4SI60MgkRQhjj8d/s1600/131-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWvgEQNECqVkeLaBJw53NMs27GzWFYl8rGyVlQA_8vPZz1aMwKLd6vX5SPuDu0u-DX3477fN-RyaFTl2dohnqZ2_QpKfjFTIsTTqheEsA5LDfwI1rU6kzIYjLeWkC-4SI60MgkRQhjj8d/s1600/131-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“big storm coming,” the sheriff announced as he inspected the fork and samantha brought over a mug of coffee.
<p>
“so i hear.” samantha did not sound too excited or interested. she turned her <i>look</i> magazine back over.
<p>
the sheriff put two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “shouldn’t be here before daybreak though.” as he spoke he looked over at the threesome in the corner, who had fallen silent.
<p>
“i get off at six,” said samantha, turning the page of her magazine.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjioOIs88AFdJ3V5Kozcc-al0PhuOvfxEt31I6Tk6FcGhYUfoecZfLzXN3Oq_d7JwH2lxmkAX2ffrE3FPtovl22kL3FYO8dSWfXhV5SzteREFsPMcogpZXJACEXTVWsxZO8glQIf5Q1Kl2Y/s1600/131-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjioOIs88AFdJ3V5Kozcc-al0PhuOvfxEt31I6Tk6FcGhYUfoecZfLzXN3Oq_d7JwH2lxmkAX2ffrE3FPtovl22kL3FYO8dSWfXhV5SzteREFsPMcogpZXJACEXTVWsxZO8glQIf5Q1Kl2Y/s1600/131-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
but the sheriff was already heading over to hal, cindy, and duke. keeping his eyes on them all the way.
<p>
“evening, folks.” the sheriff put his pie and coffee down on a table across from their booth. he did not sit down.
<p>
“good evening to you,” hal answered in a confident, friendly voice.
<p>
“passing through?”
<p>
“probably,” hal replied.
<p>
“probably?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8svuibAALDxgnqNgO9384LoIrSSdBgetiBaXykqkxW_KIJZ_Nl4i3Q5xDERPbZcarrw-i4BbHTgonsj9eJr9OREsym_Adg1hEoM9bOskqapyHufhRDmMvwdStfpqvibWqnmgAMT4LlSk/s1600/131-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8svuibAALDxgnqNgO9384LoIrSSdBgetiBaXykqkxW_KIJZ_Nl4i3Q5xDERPbZcarrw-i4BbHTgonsj9eJr9OREsym_Adg1hEoM9bOskqapyHufhRDmMvwdStfpqvibWqnmgAMT4LlSk/s1600/131-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“well, we are headed west, looking for work, but if we could find something here, you know… “
<p>
the sheriff shook his head. “not much work around here, even when times are good.”
<p>
cindy leaned across the booth and asked with a smile, “do you know everybody around here?” she gave the sheriff her best look, and got the effect she had on most men - turning his brains and manly instincts into a whirlpool of bubbling sludge.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oAw6bhiFk3Y4Ftc6RoZ-6HB08YO3aCkPa2qQcthteghum4Pvzzao_kopLKFOn0yHRipmBM7GskjtoV3A2i6do649TvfdvbbmVwucUiGpE5ezrQJSTtfkvt270eAKIpv9GOW35EBQh5la/s1600/131-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oAw6bhiFk3Y4Ftc6RoZ-6HB08YO3aCkPa2qQcthteghum4Pvzzao_kopLKFOn0yHRipmBM7GskjtoV3A2i6do649TvfdvbbmVwucUiGpE5ezrQJSTtfkvt270eAKIpv9GOW35EBQh5la/s1600/131-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“well, miss - i’m the sheriff, by the way.”
<p>
“really?’
<p>
“yes, my name is sheriff james brown. most sheriffs are named john brown, but i am sheriff james brown, ha ha.”
<p>
“that’s funny,” cindy agreed.
<p>
“look here,” hal said to the sheriff, “if you are the sheriff, it must be for the whole county, right? not just this town?”
<p>
“that’s right,” the sheriff answered, pulling his eyes away from cindy.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSHIl_xUL4LX-LuyJT7iBWr-cnIrDojTlWS6Bw8xprmdzZX56Rce_iP_AgWhc8_NQw59Pfs3WRpHSt_hVAdSP-xPOOMzQps-qq8Vj8O1gftc1HlXVWuoPRlxx0v4LI7BTvudsd_N_PIwn9/s1600/131-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSHIl_xUL4LX-LuyJT7iBWr-cnIrDojTlWS6Bw8xprmdzZX56Rce_iP_AgWhc8_NQw59Pfs3WRpHSt_hVAdSP-xPOOMzQps-qq8Vj8O1gftc1HlXVWuoPRlxx0v4LI7BTvudsd_N_PIwn9/s1600/131-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
hal tapped his newspaper. “ever hear of a mrs elizabeth morris - of -“ he consulted the paper. “of simmonsville?”
<p>
the sheriff looked startled. “of course - at the old morris place. everybody knows mrs morris. what - don’t tell me she’s advertising for help again?”
<p>
“i guess she is,” said hal. “it is right here in black and white. my sister here was thinking she might apply . and we thought maybe the lady could use a couple of hired men too - no harm in asking.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqAp5sfWt9YrQLF8lG8zvxk2ZhckDMNV2Nl2xv2Lc_wY9XAMmIoORTBuky6ttVGZkh6VQjYpthS2cIguP44yc3zZvx3UP9c2sfk9JQeA_6JguYTQ3rVjNfU4YFyWj7yVfgI1tqpBRdrE_/s1600/131-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqAp5sfWt9YrQLF8lG8zvxk2ZhckDMNV2Nl2xv2Lc_wY9XAMmIoORTBuky6ttVGZkh6VQjYpthS2cIguP44yc3zZvx3UP9c2sfk9JQeA_6JguYTQ3rVjNfU4YFyWj7yVfgI1tqpBRdrE_/s1600/131-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the sheriff laughed. “no harm in asking. but old lizzie has a mighty hard time keeping help. and do you know why?”
<p>
“no, why?” cindy asked.
<p>
“because she wants to pay what she’d pay if mckinley was still president. in fact what she would really like is to pay what her grandfather paid his slaves before the war between the states.”
<p>
“oh,” hal said, with a look of disappointment. but it was exactly what he wanted to hear - that the crazy old woman really was a miser - and must have a fortune stashed away in her house!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHqGms2RLp02hjrfctZah9qvuTtondkVCB56HwKESw5CWfzUnGeoGVHhp96Ws3Olvjl0YIzMjLcM4rCu9VbEu-D9dtoiflNDbbZfk48ZVJVaVb892sAom9E4eNPFJelO3zkfaiSAyA4tn/s1600/131-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHqGms2RLp02hjrfctZah9qvuTtondkVCB56HwKESw5CWfzUnGeoGVHhp96Ws3Olvjl0YIzMjLcM4rCu9VbEu-D9dtoiflNDbbZfk48ZVJVaVb892sAom9E4eNPFJelO3zkfaiSAyA4tn/s1600/131-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“no,” sheriff james brown continued. “i would advise you folks to continue on your way. there is a big storm heading this way, and you just might want to stay ahead of it.”
<p>
“a big storm!” exclaimed cindy. “how big?”
<p>
“might be mighty big. you wouldn’t want to be out on the road. with the wind blowing straight across the plain."
<p>
hal looked thoughtful. “in that case, maybe we should hole up somewhere. would you know someplace we could stay, sheriff?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrJ01SfEMHYphBu3XDD5RjAeeoVmybjY9VahDDudvQcmLW9B1N8h3Gw-owuFqVfYUadTBzjh1P1jpUvgBAbJsQ4kZD1B00SbPOW2Blvp3wXm5cSx9ZRxoah6NUNwNamEciPx3D3G42xs0/s1600/131-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrJ01SfEMHYphBu3XDD5RjAeeoVmybjY9VahDDudvQcmLW9B1N8h3Gw-owuFqVfYUadTBzjh1P1jpUvgBAbJsQ4kZD1B00SbPOW2Blvp3wXm5cSx9ZRxoah6NUNwNamEciPx3D3G42xs0/s1600/131-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“well, there is mrs baxter’s place, in bainville, about twenty miles down the road.” the sheriff hesitated. “she runs a real respectable place.”
<p>
“we wouldn’t stay in any other kind,” said cindy.
<p>
the sheriff flushed slightly. “so you are brother and sister, eh? and what about you, young fellow?” he asked duke. “are you family, too?”
<p>
“just a friend,” duke told him.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYozlldZsB9secSMuGOjqhZG2oGhFy0VgJDegmte6spl0lJTLKu64kJOfzUEfXBE6nm5c-BzxGhyphenhyphenfe0bohm2F_6uaWJ-vq8ZDLXWCFHjVEYfyM4wiWP_Xo3zajMGDuI3ox7kEVPZnFP5Dh/s1600/131-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYozlldZsB9secSMuGOjqhZG2oGhFy0VgJDegmte6spl0lJTLKu64kJOfzUEfXBE6nm5c-BzxGhyphenhyphenfe0bohm2F_6uaWJ-vq8ZDLXWCFHjVEYfyM4wiWP_Xo3zajMGDuI3ox7kEVPZnFP5Dh/s1600/131-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“a friend, hey? don’t tell me, i bet you two fellows were in the service together.”
<p>
“not exactly,” hal told him.
<p>
“not exactly?”
<p>
“no, we played football together. at florida state.”
<p>
“florida state, eh?’ the sherif chuckled. “you don’t hear much about football at florida state.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI28Txnj_GTQGVHumOfxoje1j3CLQ52257uR91y-8Q17OIrBaTnioqU_qQlgidj0_RaBtcIEHwo2WU0BB-ilr32lth3KWgS-6uwcuFazrsNV7J8zs3AfOKDHgJdktyWm8FWSv1EI4Z8pm9/s1600/131-games-p-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240"src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI28Txnj_GTQGVHumOfxoje1j3CLQ52257uR91y-8Q17OIrBaTnioqU_qQlgidj0_RaBtcIEHwo2WU0BB-ilr32lth3KWgS-6uwcuFazrsNV7J8zs3AfOKDHgJdktyWm8FWSv1EI4Z8pm9/s1600/131-games-p-alt.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“well, “ said hal, “we weren’t fordham or notre dame, but we did play football.”
<p>
“we always gave two hundred percent,” duke added.
<p>
“i played a little football myself,” said sheriff james brown.
<p>
outside, the wind began to howl. cindy lit another cigarette.</font>
<p>
<br>
<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-6.html"><font color = "red">part 6 </font></a></center>
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<center><iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RnZODL-RGvc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></center>
<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-61925358343773795892016-07-08T04:56:00.001-07:002016-08-18T04:46:18.945-07:00games, part 4<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-3.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloa1GG-d-5sR1Jzx-19E_uE8miO9Kz39YRnVJHVPEeFBZSP_7Bx_pfFvqQg4JWu-i-RxFJBCkCh_gzMvvSeAE_wNhntwIF6eXbfMReChoEyF8oHkFmAQXsyHwjmeXZkmxLQ3vMDpi6Fqz/s1600/130-games-0.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "300" width = "400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhloa1GG-d-5sR1Jzx-19E_uE8miO9Kz39YRnVJHVPEeFBZSP_7Bx_pfFvqQg4JWu-i-RxFJBCkCh_gzMvvSeAE_wNhntwIF6eXbfMReChoEyF8oHkFmAQXsyHwjmeXZkmxLQ3vMDpi6Fqz/s1600/130-games-0.gif" /></a></div>
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<p>
<font color = "black"><i>the professor, who knew things that should never be known…</i>
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<br>
“… but there’s plenty more dames in the sea, that’s what i always say.” <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html "><font color = "blue">bob</font></a> wound up his story about sally, the waitress in fredericksburg maryland, who had a set of curves you had to see to believe…
<p>
the road had grown increasingly dark - they hadn’t passed a light of any kind for at least a couple of miles - and bob couldn’t see the look on the professor’s face or tell if he believed bob’s story.
<p>
if he didn’t, to hell with him.
<p>
“that’s a good story,” the professor finally said. he kept his pipe in his mouth as he spoke.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d8Ay8rWlf6NoUIp6TECgizTaFo7fEKWx95ZHDhKrkCmuL4X9MXK1B3rLI3GmFvIJqXbw60pT99ReVUQDLBUnujhJAzpNSzsSXnJ-eieAq-mzmM8Ve-5fUsfT6vBdQNc4gkMyMYCMBhJ7/s1600/130-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_d8Ay8rWlf6NoUIp6TECgizTaFo7fEKWx95ZHDhKrkCmuL4X9MXK1B3rLI3GmFvIJqXbw60pT99ReVUQDLBUnujhJAzpNSzsSXnJ-eieAq-mzmM8Ve-5fUsfT6vBdQNc4gkMyMYCMBhJ7/s1600/130-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“you know, it’a a funny thing about stories,” the professor added, after they went about another thousand yards. he actually took his pipe out of his mouth as he said this, the first time he had since he had picked bob up.
<p>
“and what’s that?” bob asked.
<p>
“some are more stories than others.”
<p>
“yeah,” bob agreed, though he was not sure what the professor meant. was he cracking wise, giving bob the needle? did he think bob made up the story about sally the waitress and her curves?
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3b72XjWWqNyocw-_akdmTeXazAYdZuuY77A-BmhU2RnTEn2gTUT5cL60EVwT9AkCAGx8HLC9w4J5CIOa5awT3MhinefR0wLUySANJ5Yj7nh_OtDE3igKKbageRqg-ngnQG5CjChZoqUY/s1600/130-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3b72XjWWqNyocw-_akdmTeXazAYdZuuY77A-BmhU2RnTEn2gTUT5cL60EVwT9AkCAGx8HLC9w4J5CIOa5awT3MhinefR0wLUySANJ5Yj7nh_OtDE3igKKbageRqg-ngnQG5CjChZoqUY/s1600/130-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“stories are on a spectrum,” the professor continued, with his unlit pipe back in mouth.
<p>
‘i guess,” said bob, although he did not see, and did not know what a “spectrum” was. something like an atomic bomb, maybe?
<p>
suddenly the professor pulled over to the side of the road.
<p>
“what are you stopping for?” bob asked. they seemed to be stopped beside a field, though it was too dark to tell even that. there was not a light in sight, and no moon or stars.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kbANb_8GjOnH4ngQFD1eCuf6JdvTYpX4LA8iI6_-UqLxX31AH_0OpWLDYyXkiUEQ90P2xqL2INdftrJ__K4fHFjyCmWrZPTgenICZtdhKPFod8zcn7a845MHPD0O6nPijhWbxu06eNcN/s1600/130-games-d.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_kbANb_8GjOnH4ngQFD1eCuf6JdvTYpX4LA8iI6_-UqLxX31AH_0OpWLDYyXkiUEQ90P2xqL2INdftrJ__K4fHFjyCmWrZPTgenICZtdhKPFod8zcn7a845MHPD0O6nPijhWbxu06eNcN/s1600/130-games-d.png" /></a></div>
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“just to fill my pipe and light it,” the professor replied in a mild voice. “we’ll be on our way shortly. why, were you in a hurry?”
<p>
“no,no.”
<p>
“we will come back to civilization in a few miles. we’ll stop and get a cup of coffee.”
<p>
“uh - i’m a little short,” bob said.
<p>
“that’s all right, i’ll but you a cup.”
<p>
“gee. thanks.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybhshDYReto1XyrFH0ELXcqd3ZnOXuI7slWb2GZEIIZZCVyNpK7TrHVoUstl9Iex7G6IF1IvlwL6gC1LKB1qJWk1kW86PEAnsrP3COG1AnUTJhRaCUD9oJaDl1ErDgxpw6gSfW0denpF8/s1600/130-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybhshDYReto1XyrFH0ELXcqd3ZnOXuI7slWb2GZEIIZZCVyNpK7TrHVoUstl9Iex7G6IF1IvlwL6gC1LKB1qJWk1kW86PEAnsrP3COG1AnUTJhRaCUD9oJaDl1ErDgxpw6gSfW0denpF8/s1600/130-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
‘all you have to do is listen my story.”
<p>
“i can do that.”
<p>
the professor finished filling his pipe from a pouch he had taken out of his vest pocket., and lit it with a wooden match.
<p>
he took a long contented drag of the pipe, and the started the car again.
<p>
they drove a while in silence. bob thought the professor was going to wait until they got to wherever they were going to get coffee before he began his story, but suddenly he started.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxRU-QMtav3qhI3smOtB98P5fUKVj8cFlZ7IAX0hAbNTmUzwszRfwlnIjYVoRih209COakmQ-2XkAb6U4y6mFUDiVBZwSO8N3AIbETvba46Fv2H_a0MkJP-L2WC1hxL6b9C3CvqVoe-TK/s1600/130-games-f.-alt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxRU-QMtav3qhI3smOtB98P5fUKVj8cFlZ7IAX0hAbNTmUzwszRfwlnIjYVoRih209COakmQ-2XkAb6U4y6mFUDiVBZwSO8N3AIbETvba46Fv2H_a0MkJP-L2WC1hxL6b9C3CvqVoe-TK/s1600/130-games-f.-alt.gif" /></a></div>
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“i have never told this story to anyone before,” he began. “and i did not think i ever would. but it’s been eating away at me for years, and i have finally decided i need to tell somebody… even if that somebody is…”
<p>
bob thought thought the professor was going to say “a bum”, but he said “a complete stranger.”
<p>
“my story starts about fifteen tears ago,” the professor continued. “when i first obtained my appointment to the faculty of st crassus college. i was looking forward to a long and leisurely life of teaching shelley and tennyson and ruskin to undergraduates, when i received a letter in the mail. a letter without postmark or return address but in an envelope inscribed with a firm masculine hand.
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<br>
i opened it, and saw that it was from something calling itself the “universal concatenation company”. surely a name to inspire skepticism. i quickly scanned it and to my astonishment found that it was signed by my old boyhood chum barry atkinson!
<p>
barry and i had been lads together in the golden faraway days before the world went mad. we had hunted jackrabbits and fished for trout together, and as you may have surmised, had been in love with the same girl.
<p>
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<br>
who had, needless to say, chosen barry. barry, accompanied by his lovely bride, had headed to the corridors of power on the faraway east coast, those corridors bustling with activity in anticipation of the coming world cataclysm. and i had resolved to bury myself and my broken heart away among the silos and bookshelves of st crassus agricultural college.
<p>
i went back and read the letter more carefully.
<p>
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barry was offering me a position on a project - one of many competing ones, as he readily acknowledged - that bid fair not only to win the coming war - victory was treated as a certainty - but to reorganize the very fabric of what the man in the street laughingly regards as “reality”.
<p>
why me? i was only a humble interpreter of ancient bards, quite ignorant of any science except the elementary principles of euclid.
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because, barry assured me, he could count on my absolute loyalty. he would, he explained, quickly get me up to speed on all i needed to know to be his loyal factotum.
<p>
and of course, i would be helping to save civilization and all that…
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would it shock you, my friend, if i told you i cared not a rap for civilization, or patriotism, or glory, or for any of the finer feelings you might care to name?
<p>
no, what i saw was the chance to once more set eyes on millie… beautiful, rosy-cheeked, millie…
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wife, as she might be, of another man…
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and so it was that i found myself the only passenger getting off at a tiny railroad station in the middle of nevada, blinking in the sun and not seeing anybody there to greet me.
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the station itself was no more than a shack, and was closed. i tried the door, and noticed a sign that said - tickets noon to 4 p m only’.
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and then i heard a voice behind me.
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'charles! how wonderful to see you!'
<p>
i turned and it was millie. laughing, sparkling, curly-haired millie. just as i had dreamed of her all those hundreds of lonely nights and dreary afternoons…
<p>
'millie- ' i stammered foolishly, 'where did you come from?'
<p>
'the car is parked behind the station, silly, where there is at least a bit of shade. come on, barry is waiting for you, with a big pitcher of lemonade!'
<p>
the car was an old model t ford, of all things, but polished to a high shine, and, millie assured me merrily, quite capable of traversing the stony wastes of the desert.
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<p>
it took me a moment to realize it, but i was alone with millie. alone, in what seemed to be a hundred miles of desert…
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<br>
and in that moment i wondered if there were any power in the world that could keep a man from breaking down when his soul is being smashed into a thousand pieces… “
<p>
the professor paused.
<p>
suddenly there were lights in the distance, as the car approached a main highway.</font>
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<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-5.html"><font color = "red">part 5 </font></a></center>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5467105405792150947.post-30053346479153126222016-07-01T09:30:00.000-07:002016-07-08T04:57:37.918-07:00games, part 3<br>
<font color = "navy"> by <font color = "green ">harold p sternhagen</font> writing as <font color = "blue"> "ralph desmond"</font>
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being a sequel to <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2014/10/fun.html "><font color = "blue"> <i>fun</i></font></a>
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illustrated by <font color = "black"> konrad kraus </font>
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originally appeared in the july through october 1952 issues of <font = "purple"><i>walloping midnight stories</i> magazine</font>
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editorial consultant:<font color = "black"> Prof. Dan Leo</font>
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for previous episode, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games-part-2.html "><font color = "red"> here </font></a>
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to begin at the beginning, click <a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/06/games.html"><font color = "blue"> here </font></a></font>
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<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOdic-791uZnr1jepDf_lyZ9F0ce6zaFqs5h7uiRyj68JiHF_-VLPrVF_heHYyytVIecOoi-5S5I669thRfiKC0lMcM_AaYbbswkpRubb3rQiR87Eg-D3OVPBVELFZyM1PM94G9Zl_iY_b/s1600/129-games-a.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOdic-791uZnr1jepDf_lyZ9F0ce6zaFqs5h7uiRyj68JiHF_-VLPrVF_heHYyytVIecOoi-5S5I669thRfiKC0lMcM_AaYbbswkpRubb3rQiR87Eg-D3OVPBVELFZyM1PM94G9Zl_iY_b/s1600/129-games-a.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
<font color = "black">julie was sly, and she had good peripheral vision. she had been constantly checking the clock on the bus station wall, although it might not have seemed to an observer that she was doing so.
<p>
this is too good to be true, she thought. she felt almost giddy.
<p>
she had resigned herself to meeting her prospective husband, the mysterious “mister garver” and going away with him for at least a little while, until she could manage to escape.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkv6oQ92maThDayU2oB8bdkgOJJs9CNKx2QEXqGX0-u9Sazj3JIXRUP-uwja29INwIwZ2m-kd37947_v8Ac1YkNyUHgX08JSkFBvZQSSL7g-PSAktMGG6PyfARHGBkCJf3d-KOhw-ojluh/s1600/129-games-b.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkv6oQ92maThDayU2oB8bdkgOJJs9CNKx2QEXqGX0-u9Sazj3JIXRUP-uwja29INwIwZ2m-kd37947_v8Ac1YkNyUHgX08JSkFBvZQSSL7g-PSAktMGG6PyfARHGBkCJf3d-KOhw-ojluh/s1600/129-games-b.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
but now she was here, and mister garver was not! she could escape now!
<p>
but - if she left now, would he come looking for her? maybe he would ask the police to look for her, or to be on the lookout for her?
<p>
how foolish she would look! and it would not be the greatest way to start off with him.
<p>
but if she waited long enough… if she waited long enough that it would seen reasonable to wander off…
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nkwCtQWl7JKGz1v3P5s1voh8uNi98SW5KAbiFk1gUkYe_YwqGCj7MihcyB_UVc0HIoamrRi8CTP9IgfVCMfQzPysR8liu4Pqvkb0fsG0Px_NjpHhttrKmJ1Rgm1iKemZWBynul9Hg24f/s1600/129-games-c.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nkwCtQWl7JKGz1v3P5s1voh8uNi98SW5KAbiFk1gUkYe_YwqGCj7MihcyB_UVc0HIoamrRi8CTP9IgfVCMfQzPysR8liu4Pqvkb0fsG0Px_NjpHhttrKmJ1Rgm1iKemZWBynul9Hg24f/s1600/129-games-c.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she did not have an address or telephone number for him. she was not even sure what city he lived in. just because he was picking her up at the bus stop in the city did not mean he lived there.
<p>
julie had had a plan all along to escape.
<p>
in the previous winter she had gone for a walk in a snowstorm - because she liked to go for walks in snowstorms - and she had found a small purse on a sidewalk.
<p>
the purse contained two diamond rings. she took the purse and the rings home and never told her mother or anybody else about them.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudUmS7kLv97TWRbQkDyUaN98GpS4Kix81pretmztu0RzM_pYXc0y6aoI6AQBC2CqQ9YVbKR0GreODttKguyIl1dqVFGKDEc1XbAX5Abde4IGiQXhpL9AOTTihOLYnJv7Rp3NY_OV86L8e/s1600/129-games-d.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgudUmS7kLv97TWRbQkDyUaN98GpS4Kix81pretmztu0RzM_pYXc0y6aoI6AQBC2CqQ9YVbKR0GreODttKguyIl1dqVFGKDEc1XbAX5Abde4IGiQXhpL9AOTTihOLYnJv7Rp3NY_OV86L8e/s1600/129-games-d.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
julie did not know anything about jewelry, but she felt sure that the rings were worth at least $5,000 each, and that in an emergency she could take one or both to a pawnshop and get that much for them.
<p>
sometimes she thought about taking the rings to a pawnshop and making sure they were worth that much…
<p>
but she never did. suppose the owner was looking for the rings and the police had told the pawnshops to be on the lookout for them!
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcYbIPMRuot_LoOznNFehu6ACXkyP73mVYkdpbcsNyFaj8atZYlK6LrDTCXhgkzeDHnjx73rI-Eg_ngtMzjKqxMISkC26wf582Iz6_JwKvVTOhczmACDXLMFB9lGhDV-37kUbmjv4h2Ic/s1600/129-games-e.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZcYbIPMRuot_LoOznNFehu6ACXkyP73mVYkdpbcsNyFaj8atZYlK6LrDTCXhgkzeDHnjx73rI-Eg_ngtMzjKqxMISkC26wf582Iz6_JwKvVTOhczmACDXLMFB9lGhDV-37kUbmjv4h2Ic/s1600/129-games-e.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
no, better to wait until she was far away, where the rings would not be recognized by anybody.
<p>
nor did she take any books about jewelry out of the library that she might use to verify the worth of the rings, as she sometimes thought of doing.
<p>
with $10,000 she figured she could live at least 15 years, even if she never got a job or made any money any other way.
<p>
she worked it out with a pencil and paper, one day when her mother was at work.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkyRv0qGrhCI0oHBybUH54s3nzy-zpZ0tZjHC9DDn9ZWTATxLYfKMu5oanLJsyBexHuEf1zCnuFzSxnumCyDzeCNQLkSefCoTIpmRGj1jc02qTKOs9ieIaqljakkgTHzNTtZhc0Ip_ujQ/s1600/129-games-f.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkyRv0qGrhCI0oHBybUH54s3nzy-zpZ0tZjHC9DDn9ZWTATxLYfKMu5oanLJsyBexHuEf1zCnuFzSxnumCyDzeCNQLkSefCoTIpmRGj1jc02qTKOs9ieIaqljakkgTHzNTtZhc0Ip_ujQ/s1600/129-games-f.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she figured she could get a room for $5 a week - maybe even at a boarding house where they would feed her! although she had heard her mother and other people say that old fashioned boarding houses were going out of style. but even if she could not get meals at the boarding house, she should be able to eat on $1 a day, easy. that was $12 a week.
<p>
12 times 52 weeks in a year came to $624. she checked and rechecked her arithmetic several times.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Y8RR38sWNfxrFiG_XgTqljSGgcUg5D60_w5ygVO8PZOnPQ7iGqOHlfin30tHaDPximWHf50ZvQ0JnzgBRas2jymVMeyYhGiDnvFXKdQCidXUtO92M8JUdRNXUTxcTC9Es21zHmv9_BU/s1600/129-games-g.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn3Y8RR38sWNfxrFiG_XgTqljSGgcUg5D60_w5ygVO8PZOnPQ7iGqOHlfin30tHaDPximWHf50ZvQ0JnzgBRas2jymVMeyYhGiDnvFXKdQCidXUtO92M8JUdRNXUTxcTC9Es21zHmv9_BU/s1600/129-games-g.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the hard part was dividing $10,000 by 624 - it came to 16 years with a little left over.
<p>
but she might have to buy clothes once in a while, and stuff like toothpaste and soap and lipstick - so call it 15 years.
<p>
julie was proud of herself for figuring things out so exactly.
<p>
all she had to do was get far away and find a pawnshop and she would be all set.
<p>
15 years was an eternity, for sure. but julie had plans even beyond that.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiES6vuFfccllrPdrUvivs_WEVhL6gFDjAf8oJ7xz2RBLuMC5jcYNc5czc2ru7VD6zhhaLhfHkqaigjt9PfloRTGfWzVzCbXxk4uVobsXSk5__Xqyhh6m-MmhRzapZmEkHRy-U2tMF7pN6z/s1600/129-games-h.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiES6vuFfccllrPdrUvivs_WEVhL6gFDjAf8oJ7xz2RBLuMC5jcYNc5czc2ru7VD6zhhaLhfHkqaigjt9PfloRTGfWzVzCbXxk4uVobsXSk5__Xqyhh6m-MmhRzapZmEkHRy-U2tMF7pN6z/s1600/129-games-h.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she was going to use the 15 years to write a best-selling novel, which would make her so rich that she would have money forever even if she lived to be 90 or 100 years old.
<p>
or maybe she would write a hit broadway play. she had read or heard somewhere that a hit broadway play could make even more than a best selling novel. especially if it got made into a movie!
<p>
anyway, she had all the time in the world.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVOY_C3hsBbbLS6MOhPbS3aLQUBKCYV9GT1n0mMaRIn43eqx8-0tU0NfSzbzL-_1LN7ZNXiDQVm0SUZUYRh5qts315TwAAOgp9cWjdWMoBSF6O5Xhui-7mrq4HTEPTlu9INdIhYFnHgFR/s1600/129-games-i.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVOY_C3hsBbbLS6MOhPbS3aLQUBKCYV9GT1n0mMaRIn43eqx8-0tU0NfSzbzL-_1LN7ZNXiDQVm0SUZUYRh5qts315TwAAOgp9cWjdWMoBSF6O5Xhui-7mrq4HTEPTlu9INdIhYFnHgFR/s1600/129-games-i.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
the important thing right now was to decide how long she should wait for mister garver.
<p>
ten o’clock? eleven o’clock?
<p>
julie was not at all nervous. she now felt completely sure that mister garver, for whatever reason, or whoever or whatever he was, was not going to show up.
<p>
as sure as she was that the rings were worth $10,000, and that she could live off them for fifteen years.
<p>
ten o’clock came. julie decided to wait until ten thirty.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0qm-MywlehC07ZOcLRLv2IkvEEUOdviJp4GYpjnJwkXlgGMMDytZsl0SdWNCzdt3N8h5DsxXWaEpRVH9qidVXoENVk7PyMwFCpndgW_N4tCgjdpMgVYuM_0Zzg6jHAdlkGRVWd1D8PvT/s1600/129-games-j.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU0qm-MywlehC07ZOcLRLv2IkvEEUOdviJp4GYpjnJwkXlgGMMDytZsl0SdWNCzdt3N8h5DsxXWaEpRVH9qidVXoENVk7PyMwFCpndgW_N4tCgjdpMgVYuM_0Zzg6jHAdlkGRVWd1D8PvT/s1600/129-games-j.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
she wondered if she should order something else, if she was going to keep sitting there.
<p>
she did not want another cup of tea. what she really wanted was a glass of milk, but she had felt self-conscious about ordering one. her mother had always teased her a little about drinking milk “like a little girl’”.
<p>
julie noticed that a new waitress had come on - tall, skinny, kind of mean looking. she exchanged a few words with the waitress who had been there since julie arrived, and then the original waitress came over to julie.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWP7T1HDR8PiNadDk9Sut6gAKmvrzKF80ucffdriLLPf2EIpHvn14gk3vZNISCypeZMUx7EsZnKxWv069zj8bCRRO_r6dUFvsqbGlJFbv7W63mKDjnSmvOn8GN2uJU7QPcFa-laVJ02lC/s1600/129-games-k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWP7T1HDR8PiNadDk9Sut6gAKmvrzKF80ucffdriLLPf2EIpHvn14gk3vZNISCypeZMUx7EsZnKxWv069zj8bCRRO_r6dUFvsqbGlJFbv7W63mKDjnSmvOn8GN2uJU7QPcFa-laVJ02lC/s1600/129-games-k.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“can i get you something, honey, before i go?”
<p>
“can i get a glass of milk?” julie asked.
<p>
“sure. it’s ten cents.” some people thought milk was free, like water.
<p>
“i’ll take it.”
<p>
edna brought julie the glass of milk. it wasn’t as big as julie would have liked but she didn’t say anything.
<p>
“still waiting for that husband of yours?”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf9rzV2Oqoka5oseYt_oAju9S27NC2bC60aYuyNO8VXAQf3bMDGROs684ZZ7Ufg6dXZlm0fH8CD8PpawwvUHcX53bGXoAJm2sq_6fvXccGkZqA85k-Izg3uVVFw_pD263VI_R1j859QyG/s1600/129-games-l.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIf9rzV2Oqoka5oseYt_oAju9S27NC2bC60aYuyNO8VXAQf3bMDGROs684ZZ7Ufg6dXZlm0fH8CD8PpawwvUHcX53bGXoAJm2sq_6fvXccGkZqA85k-Izg3uVVFw_pD263VI_R1j859QyG/s1600/129-games-l.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“yes, i am.”
<p>
“is he late a lot?” edna asked.
<p>
“i don’t know.”
<p>
“you don’t know? why, haven’t you ever had to wait for him before? you must be just married.” edna smiled.
<p>
“no, i’ve never met him.”
<p>
“never met him!”
<p>
“no.”
<p>
there was something about edna’s friendly gaze that made julie tell her her whole story - leaving out the $10,000 diamond rings.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5tldXWTkojWO4olRo0tybsn3Rk1PiviXFhUu86K9G1vLCdbJno9Z0pQtzQiOIQmya6IA12U6F-TBnc6Fh_GkgMBY5Od0UOeOmAPKL6_OL26-ByQas-lGlH0ifV_sALIYIXYfIQ9YpTSW/s1600/129-games-m.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5tldXWTkojWO4olRo0tybsn3Rk1PiviXFhUu86K9G1vLCdbJno9Z0pQtzQiOIQmya6IA12U6F-TBnc6Fh_GkgMBY5Od0UOeOmAPKL6_OL26-ByQas-lGlH0ifV_sALIYIXYfIQ9YpTSW/s1600/129-games-m.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
while she was telling the story, one other customer came in - an ordinary looking man who ordered a cup of coffee.
<p>
the rest of the time the new waitress was leaning on the counter a few feet away listening, and julie heard her snicker a couple of times but ignored her.
<p>
edna was horrified. she had heard a lot of sad stories, but julie’s was one of the worst.
<p>
“you know, honey, it’s not for me to say, but i kind of don’t think this fellow is going to show up.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8wyveFNjRSuk1txEImw2ICxA9Fz2Oz49nteDesYTx2G-QvW9e25_n0IjPntLYayvqkGmIFONfzFERiTGJQsYGRmel_J5rP_DA1_r707eBd936KLCq8vsJOxvY4RQ9X1VeKu_tN-k2fDA/s1600/129-games-n.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8wyveFNjRSuk1txEImw2ICxA9Fz2Oz49nteDesYTx2G-QvW9e25_n0IjPntLYayvqkGmIFONfzFERiTGJQsYGRmel_J5rP_DA1_r707eBd936KLCq8vsJOxvY4RQ9X1VeKu_tN-k2fDA/s1600/129-games-n.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
“no,” julie answered matter of factly, “ i don’t think he is either.”
<p>
“so, what are you going to do?”
<p>
“i thought i would start hitchhiking. um - do you have a car? maybe you could give me a lift to where i could start?”
<p>
“hitchhike! and at this time of night? and to where?”
<p>
“oh, i don’t know. new york, chicago, philadelphia.”
<p>
“honey, you don’t want to hitchhike anywhere. i tell you what, why don’t you come home with me. you can sleep on my couch and in the morning you can decide what to do - go back to your mother or whatever.”
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEOQQP8SRDtowFZnMO7dOYLtxGGab1typDTcCO2UftMJ-KKGqdIPu4VDCGvy9u6eiRxRe23DTNZzZcisVx4EYam1sbqJWFLYJ5anMNSZL9RV8WKRB_NEQUdGAnV7ET64Yf5GEH1VdD7yS/s1600/129-games-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEOQQP8SRDtowFZnMO7dOYLtxGGab1typDTcCO2UftMJ-KKGqdIPu4VDCGvy9u6eiRxRe23DTNZzZcisVx4EYam1sbqJWFLYJ5anMNSZL9RV8WKRB_NEQUdGAnV7ET64Yf5GEH1VdD7yS/s1600/129-games-o.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
julie had no intention of going back to her mother, but the idea of a night’s sleep indoors sounded pretty good, so she said, “all right.”
<p>
edna was soft-hearted and was always taking strays in. cats, dogs, women and girls - sometimes even boys or men. very young boys or very old men, but boys and men. her friends told her she was crazy, and she would get herself killed, but she mostly enjoyed it - she liked listening to people’s stories better than the radio. and it broke the monotony of her existence.
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD687LQI_jW7A-1f4bP2XKjSJt5G1G55JtAYiUrYJdZ0Vyj73DmgFc00PbNph-ubK5oKv2-RF1nTQM21Qe2MqGJTF6LUf6otFICcQHuzWa34NqvXIVCqT_yp8eu5bNT0DJvlGeGDRH2ri7/s1600/129-games-p.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD687LQI_jW7A-1f4bP2XKjSJt5G1G55JtAYiUrYJdZ0Vyj73DmgFc00PbNph-ubK5oKv2-RF1nTQM21Qe2MqGJTF6LUf6otFICcQHuzWa34NqvXIVCqT_yp8eu5bNT0DJvlGeGDRH2ri7/s1600/129-games-p.gif" /></a></div>
<br>
now she took out a jacket she had folded up under the counter, and a hat, and put them on.
<p>
“you want to finish that milk?” she asked julie.
<p>
julie had a moment of panic that mister garver would suddenly show up. she drained the milk off in one gulp.
<p>
over edna’s shoulder she could see a smirk on the other waitress’s nasty face,
<p>
julie wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “all right, let’s go.”</font>
<p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilm3IB6HjKj_7A6mZJfPZoJQXzE8ph6ApPTvjl7FtB2EwOcFM5ahuawnJ2yNTdQM-PLyOWxk9zDg_45Suii0k4uAo4RMFEsDeGPkKfPBMpISqS6RFK011t_mbCYU7KFUBb_OqbhjETBCS3/s1600/129-games-q.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0"height = "240" width = "240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilm3IB6HjKj_7A6mZJfPZoJQXzE8ph6ApPTvjl7FtB2EwOcFM5ahuawnJ2yNTdQM-PLyOWxk9zDg_45Suii0k4uAo4RMFEsDeGPkKfPBMpISqS6RFK011t_mbCYU7KFUBb_OqbhjETBCS3/s1600/129-games-q.gif" /></a></div>
<p>
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<center><a href = "http://stcrispian.blogspot.com/2016/07/games-part-4.html"><font color = "red">part 4 </font></a></center>
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<br>rhodahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10694315635082071848noreply@blogger.com0