A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

<< _ price. An’ he gives me one that makes me blink. Not because it’s high but because it’s so low. It gives me the glimmer of an- _ other idea. Nursing that idea, I say I’d & like to look at some other places. He . shows me some, but hatisheartad like, an _ the idea grows. _ “Tt’s late when we get back to the vil- $ & lage. On the way we run across a man _ who draws up to talk. He says to the old _ goat: ‘Eph, there’s four more gone from the poor farm.’ ee “The old goat sort of jitters an’ asks _._ when, The other man says last night. He ___ Says the superintendent’s about ready to call in the police. Eph sort of calculates q _ an’ says that makes about fifty gone. The _ other man says, yeah, all of that. They _ Shake their heads an’ we go on. T ask - _what’s this about the poor farm, an’ Eph ' tells me that it’s about ten miles off an’ that in the last three months the yes ' have been vanishing an’ vanishi 4 ~~ got that same scared look back, an’ starts talking about something else, 4 “Well, we get back to the Beverly _ House. Thar’s quite a bunch of villagers in the front room, an’ they treat me mighty _ respectful. I gather that Eph has told ’em a _ who I’m supposed to be, an’ that this is a sort of committee of welcome. “IT get my supper, an’ come out an’ _there’s more people there. They’ve got a 3 sort of look of herding for comfort. An’ _ that idea of mine gets stronger. It’s that _ I've been wronging Eph in thinking all he _ wants is a profit from me. I get the flattering. idea that they're all pretty plumb a _ scared, an’ what they think is that mebbe _ I'm the man who can help ’em out in what- x _ever’s scaring them, After all, I suppose “i the Partington’s in their time was big a ‘round here, an’ here I am, one of ~ ’em, an’ coming back Providentially, as : 5 you might say, just at the right time. I sit ~an’ listen, an’ al. the talk goes ’round the - Poor farm an’ the Frenchman. 3 : aa Tt gets around nine o'clock an’ a feller es comes in. He says: ‘They picked up two of them missing paupers. Everybody sort el comes close, an’ Eph says: ‘Where?’ An’ this feller says: ‘Bill hidenks late 3 —_eting in, an’ he sees these two floaters f his bow. He hooks an’ tows ’em. Old gage s at the wharf an’ he takes a ‘He says he knows ’em. They’re Sam et nae te uy - ie CREEP, SHADOW! ; and Mattie Whelan who’s been at the poor = farm for three years. They lay ‘em out on the wharf. They must have drowned them- selves an’ been hitting up against a rock for Lord knows when,’ says this feller. ““What d’you mean hitting up against a rock?’ asks Eph. An’ the fellow says they must have because there ain’t a whole bone in their chests. Says the ribs are all smashed, an’ the way it looks to him they must have been pounding on a rock steady for days. Like as if they’d been tied to it. Even their hearts are all mashed up—” I felt sick, and abreast of sickness a bit- ter rage; and within me I heard a yoice ae Ha it was done in the old days... so they slew r people... long a Then I realized T oe 8 ae Bill was holding my arms. McCann was on his feet, too, but there was little sur- prise on his face, and even then I won- dered how much more he knew than he was telling us. I said: “All right, Bifl. Sorry, Me- Cann,” and poured myself a drink. — Repo said mildly: “Okay, Doc, you’ ve got your reasons. Well, just then into the room comes a gangling sort of feller with empty eyes an’ a loose mouth. Nobody says a word, just watches him. He comes over to me an’ stares at me. He starts to shake, an’ he whispers to me: ‘She’s riding again. She’s riding on the black horse.- She rode last night with her hair streaming behind her an’ her dogs around her—’ “Then he lets out the most God-awful screech an’ starts. bowing up an’ down like a Jumping-jack, an’ he yells— ‘But they ain't dogs! They ain’t dogs! Keep ‘em off me!’ “At that there’s a bunch around him saying ‘Come along, “Lias, now come along,’ an’ they take him out, still screech- ing. Them that’s left don’ t say much. They look at me solemn, an’ pour down a drink or two an’ go. Me’”—McCann hesitated— “me, I’m feeling a mite shaky. If I was the old goat I could give you an idea how 'Lias yelped. It was like a. couple of devils had pincers on his soul an’ was yanking it loose like a tooth. I drunk a big one an’ started for bed. 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