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behave!" |
He wedged a bulldog-tipped toe into the rug and looked at me from under |
his bushy brows. |
"Helen?" he asked. "How's Helen?" |
"Iroquois!" I told him grimly. |
"Come again?" |
"After your scalp. Didn't you ever hear the adage about Satan's old |
homestead having no fury like a woman left out on the limb? If you bump |
into Helen MacDowell, pal, you better fly, not run, to the nearest |
cavern." |
Hank cracked his knuckles in misery. |
"Couldn't do nothin' else, Jim. Couldn't marry her. 'T'warn't |
logical."[2] |
[Footnote 2: In "The Scientific Pioneer," AMAZING STORIES for March, |
1940 Horse-sense Hank refused to marry Helen MacDowell because, with |
his uncanny power to foretell the future, Hank knew their baby would be |
a chorus girl when it grew up. Hank is allergic to chorines. ED.] |
"So," I reminded him, "aren't females. But never mind that, Hank. Let's |
get down to brass tacks. The reason I wanted to see you " |
"I know. About the way them men's been disappearin'," he said. He rose |
and walked to my radio set. "'Pears like you oughta have this turned |
on. With all the trouble, seems like you'd be listenin' for news |
bulletins." |
"It's busted," I said. "It hasn't worked for weeks." |
"No?" He shifted it around, peered into the maze of coils, tubes, wires |
and utter incomprehensibles that comprise a modern radio set. |
"Hmm. Never see'd the innards o' one o' these things afore. |
Interestin', ain't it?" |
His lean fingers began weaving among the gleaming entrails. A tiny |
crease appeared over his right eye. He muttered as he pushed and |
jiggled and explored. |
"This one goes there; that one goes there. 'Pears like Well, I'll be |
durned!" |
Something clicked, and his fingers made a twisting motion. He grinned |
at me. |
"How d'you make 'er talk, Jim?" |
"She doesn't. She's a deaf mute. But that vernier on the left " |
He turned it. My long-silent radio went, |
"Phweeee-gwobble-gwobble!" and became coherent. Strains of hot jive |
assaulted my eardrums. I moaned. |
"Hank, do you know everything? The repairman who looked at it said it |
would never work again. He said " |
"He jest wanted to sell you a new one," consoled my friend. "I kinda |
figgered as how adjustin' that little hunk o' metal would fix it. You |
see " |
But I never got to see. For at that moment my eyes went wobbly all of |
a sudden. Out of nowhere came a brilliant light, flooding the room |
with blinding intensity. There was no sound; just that sharp, bright |
glare and my arms tingled with a sort of electric vibration. |
And as I blinked, the light coalesced into a form! It was, roughly, the |
form of a man and from where its head should be there came a strange, |
strained, hollow voice. |
"Ombiggs!" |
Then the light flickered, and was gone, and with it was gone the voice |
and the last vestige of my self-control. I let loose one squawk out |
loud! and dived for the darkness and comparative security of the |
region under the couch! |
Not so Hank. He stood stockstill in the middle of the floor. I yelled |
at him, |
"Hank, did you do that? Did you touch something on the radio?" |
There was a faint, puzzled look on his face. |
"Nope, Jim. I didn't do nothin'. Did you see him, too?" |
"I saw him. Whoever he was. But who how?" |
"I dunno." Slowly. "Leastwise, the only thing I can think of is so durn |
unlikely Hey, listen!" |
The radio music had stopped suddenly. The voice of the announcer was |
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