Avon Fantasy Reader No. 14 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

began to see visions of himself receiving accolades as his young pupil went on io take high honors in school. Ronald seemed to resent less Jeffry’s more frequent visits to his room, and the longer time spent there. It was interesting to Wilburts that the new sol- diers that he had brought to the boy weren't immediately used. Ronald put them away in the closet. “Aren't they all right?” the tutor queried anxiously. “Oh, sure, but they aren’t quite ready yet.” “Ready for what, Ronald? I don’t understand.” The young boy got an impatient tilt to his head. “You don’t put troops into real battle without training, do you?” And he leveled a most scathing look at Wilburts that seemed to say “any fool should know that.” “Oh, of course,” said the companion hastily. It was a week afterward that Mr. Frost met Wilburts outside and called him over to the side of the house where the waste receptacle stood. “Look,” Frost said pointing. Wilburts followed the direction of the pointing, and there, in among the throwouts, was a pile of broken tin soldiers—easily half a hundred of them. “It's a disgraceful waste. I will not allow my son to grow up with such a streak of wanton destruction in him,” stormed Frost. Wilburts tactfully agreed with him and said he would speak to Ronald that evening. It was dark outside when the two, tutor and young boy, retired to the lat- ter’s room. Automatically, the lad went about his job of placing out the soldier patrols. Jeffry noticed idly that by now Ronald was using the machine gun- ners he had given him. Wilburts broke the silence. “I saw a whole lot of your broken soldiers out- side in the waste receptacle.” The boy showed little interest. Wilburts went on. “That’s pretty costly, you breaking them that way, Ronald. I hope you’re not going to do that to the ones I gave you.” “I don’t break them,” Ronald turned to the tutor. “I don’t break them.” “Tt’s an expensive thing to do,” went on Wilburts, ignoring the boy’s denial. “Why not conserve the ones you have. Just between us, young feller, I don’t think your father liked my giving you those soldiers the other day.” Ronald paled and came over toward Wilburts. “I’ve got to have soldiers, Mr. Wilburts. ve just got to. I need more now. Every night some get killed.” ‘You mean you break them,” corrected Jeffry with a smile. “I don’t break them,” Ronald cried. “I’ve told Mummy and Dad that, too.” “Well, every morning there are a few more all broken . . . how come?” “They're dead.” “Ronald!” “T don’t break them.” “You're talking foolishness, young feller. If you don’t break them, whe does? And it happens at night when you're in here alone. Surely you don’t | think I lor your parents come in here and break your soldiers, do you?” “No, 56 comicloooks. conn