Avon Fantasy Reader No. 14 — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

a’knockin’, Jim, ye scut! Kobold’s Keep is one o’ the finest towns in these whole mountings!” I began to lose patience. “I have business there! Damned important busi- ness! And it I can’t get there by car, then I’d just as soon leave it here and rent a horse or a mule for the trip.” “Must be gosh-awful important,” the attendant muttered. “See here,” I cried, “what the devil’s the matter with the place? Why are you so damned anxious to have me stay away?” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and spat. “Believe it or not, mister, I’m tryin’ to keep you out for your own good.” “Oh, nonsense. What is there to be afraid of?” “Wal,” he drawled, “for one thing—the people.” “The people? What's the matter with the people?” “Yah!” the old cyclops screeched. “Ain’t nothin’ the matter with ’em! Don’t you listen to that damn’ fool, mister! The citizens 0’ Kobold’s Keep are right fine, upstandin’ citizens!” And the glistening blue eye in his forehead blinked emphatically. The attendant swept the freak with a lowering glaace. He turned to me and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “He comes from Kobold’s Keep. He’s one of em. And he don't look so bad as the most of ’em. But that ain’t the wust part.” Fle pulled a dirty rag out of his pocket and began to wipe the inside of my windshield. “No?” I prompted. “Naw,” he drawled out of the corner of his mouth. “It ain't. The place is hexed. There’s been a curse on it since the days when Injuns owned these mountings—afore the days o' my great-gran’pappy’s great-gran’pappy, hun- nerts and hunnerts 0’ year ago. That curse has been on it. And still is. I ain't askin’ you to believe nothin’, mister. I’m just tellin’ you that no stranger who ever got into Kobold’s Keep ever lived more’n a day after leavin’ it!” “Whut's that he’s sayin’?” the old man drooled, “Is that lowdown dawg tellin’ more lies about the Keep? Don’t ye believe a word he says, mister! He's plumb loony, he is! Why, I'll guide ye to the Millhop myself, I will! And cheap, too!” “You're hired!” T agreed promptly, and turned to the attendant. “Could I rent parking-space over in that shed for a couple of days?” He shrugged. “You can. And, I reckon, you'll be wantin’ a mule, too.” He seemed to give up all efforts to dissuade me from visiting Kobold’s Keep. “Pwo mules,” I corrected. “One for my guide.” He laughed shortly and with a grim significance that, at the moment, entirely escaped me. “That'll be all right,” the cyclops croaked hastily. “I won't be needin’ no critter. ?’'d ruther lead ye afoot.” “And see that he allus keeps a good ten paces away f’om the mule,” the attendant growled, “or the critter'll shy and throw ye as sure as God made little ducks!” Tle sauntered around to the back of his shack behind the station and 98 comicbooks.com