Cugel strolled over to the hut, where both Yelleg and Malser advanced upon him in a threatening manner. Yelleg shook his massive fist in Cugel’s face. “You have been remiss for the last time! Today we propose to beat you and throw you into the pond!”

“One moment,” said Cugel. “Allow me to build a fire, as I myself am cold. Malser, start the tea, if you will.”

Speechless with rage, the two divers stood back while Cugel kindled a fire. “Now then,” said Cugel, “you will be happy to learn that I have dredged into a rich pocket of scales. I paid off my account and now Bilberd the gardener must serve the tea and build the fire.”

Yelleg asked between clenched teeth: “Are you then resigning your post?”

“Not altogether. I will continue, for at least a brief period, in an advisory capacity.”

“I am puzzled,” said Malser. “How is it that you find so many scales with such little effort?”

Cugel smiled and shrugged. “Ability, and not a little luck.”

“But mostly luck, eh? Just as Weamish had luck?”

“Ah, Weamish, poor fellow! He worked hard and long for his luck! Mine came more quickly. I have been fortunate!”

Yelleg spoke thoughtfully: “A curious succession of events! Four cases of scales disappear. Then Weamish pays off his account. Then Gark and Gookin come with their hooks and Weamish jumps from the roof. Next, honest hard-working Cugel pays off his account, though he dredges but an hour a day.”

“Curious indeed!” said Malser. “I wonder where the missing scales could be!”

“And I, no less!” said Yelleg.

Cugel spoke in mild rebuke: “Perhaps you two have time for wool-gathering, but I must troll for scales.”

Cugel went to his scow and sieved several buckets of slime. Yelleg and Malser decided to work no more, each having gleaned three scales. After dressing, they stood by the edge of the pond watching Cugel, muttering together in low voices.

During the evening meal Yelleg and Malser continued their conversation, from time to time darting glances toward Cugel. Presently Yelleg struck his fist into the palm of his hand, as if he had been struck by a novel thought, which he immediately communicated to Malser. Then both nodded wisely and glanced again toward Cugel.

The next morning, while Cugel worked his sieve, Yelleg and Malser marched out into the back garden. Each carried a lily which he laid upon Weamish’s grave. Cugel watched intently from the side of his eye. Neither Malser nor Yelleg gave his own grave more than cursory attention: so little, in fact, that Malser, in backing away, fell into the excavation. Yelleg helped him up and the two went off about their work.

Cugel ran to the grave and peered down to the bottom. The dirt had broken away from the side wall and the corner of a case might possibly have been evident to a careful inspection.

Cugel pulled thoughtfully at his chin. The case was not conspicuous. Malser, mortified by his clumsy fall, in all probability had failed to notice it. This, at least, was a reasonable theory. Nevertheless, to move the scales might be judicious; he would do so at the first opportunity.

Taking the scow out upon the slime, Cugel filled the tub; then, returning to the shore, he sieved the muck, to discover a pair of ‘ordinaries’ in the sieve.

Twango summoned Cugel to the work-room. “Cugel, tomorrow we ship four cases of prime scales at precisely noon. Go to the carpenter shop and build four stout cases to proper specifications. Then clean the carrier, lubricate the wheels, and put it generally into tip-top shape; there must be no mishaps on this occasion.”

“Have no fear,” said Cugel. “We will do the job properly.”

At noon Soldinck, with his companions Rincz and Jornulk, halted their wagon before Flutic. Cugel gave them a polite welcome and ushered them into the work-room.

Twango, somewhat nettled by Soldinck’s scrutiny of floor, walls and ceiling, spoke crisply. “Gentlemen, on the table you will observe scales to the number of six hundred and twenty, both ‘ordinary’ and ‘special’, as specified on this invoice. We shall first inspect, verify and pack the ‘specials’.”

Soldinck pointed toward Gark and Gookin. “Not while those two subhuman imps stand by! I believe that in some way they cast a spell to befuddle not only poor Weamish but all the rest of us. Then they made free with the scales.”

Cugel stated: “Soldinck’s point seems valid. Gark, Gookin: begone! Go out and chase frogs from the garden!”

Twango protested: “That is foolishly and unnecessarily harsh! Still, if you must have it so, Gark and Gookin will oblige us by departing.”

With red-eyed glares toward Cugel, Gark and Gookin darted from the room.

Twango now counted out the ‘special’ scales, while Soldinck checked them against an invoice and Cugel packed them one by one into the case under the vigilant scrutiny of Rincz and Jornulk. Then, in the same manner, the ‘ordinaries’ were packed. Cugel, watched closely by all, fitted covers to the cases, secured them well, and placed them on the carrier.

“Now,” said Cugel, “since from this point to the wagon I will be prime custodian of the scales, I must insist that, while all witness, I seal the cases with wax, into which I inscribe my special mark. By this means I and every one else must be assured that the cases we pack and load here arrive securely at the wagon.”

“A wise precaution,” said Twango. “We will all witness the process.”

Cugel sealed the boxes, made his mark into the hardening wax, then strapped the cases to the carrier. He explained: “We must take care lest a vibration or an unforeseen jar dislodge one of the cases, to the possible damage of the contents.”

“Right, Cugel! Are we now prepared?”

“Quite so. Rincz and Jornulk, you will go first, taking care that the way is without hindrance. Soldinck, you will precede the carrier by five paces. I will push the carrier and Twango will follow five paces to the rear. In absolute security we shall thereby bring the scales to the wagon.”

“Very good,” said Soldinck. “So it shall be. Rincz, Jornulk! You will go first, using all alertness!”

The procession departed the work-room and passed through a dark corridor fifteen yards long, pausing only long enough for Cugel to call ahead to Soldinck: “Is all clear?”

“All is clear,” came back Soldinck’s reassurance. “You may come forward!”

Without further delay Cugel rolled the carrier out to the wagon. “Notice all! The cases are delivered to the wagon in the number of four, each sealed with my seal. Soldinck, I hereby transfer custody of these valuables to you. I will now apply more wax, upon which you will stamp your own mark … Very good; my part of the business is done.”

Twango congratulated Cugel. “And done well, Cugel! All was proper and efficient. The carrier looked neat and orderly with its fine coat of varnish and the neat apron installed by Weamish. Now then, Soldinck, if you will render me the receipt and my payment in full, the transaction will be complete.”

Soldinck, still in a somewhat surly mood, gave over the receipt and counted out terces to the stipulated amount; then, with Rincz and Jornulk, he drove his wagon back to Saskervoy.

Cugel meanwhile wheeled the carrier to the shop. He inverted the top surface on its secret pivot, to bring the four cases into view. He removed the lids, lifted out the packets, put the broken cases into the fire, and poured the scales into a sack.

A flicker of motion caught his attention. Cugel peered sideways and glimpsed a smart red cap disappearing from view at the window.

Cugel stood motionless for ten seconds, then he moved with haste. He ran outside, but saw neither Gark nor Gookin, nor yet Yelleg nor Malser who presumably were diving in the pond.

Returning into the shop, Cugel took the sack of scales and ran fleet-footed to that hovel inhabited by Bilberd the half-witted gardener. Under a pile of rubbish in the corner of the room he hid the sack, then ran back to the shop. Into another sack he poured an assortment of nails, studs, nuts, bolts and assorted trifles of hardware, and replaced this sack on the shelf. Then, after stirring the fire around the burning cases, he busied himself varnishing the upper surface of the carrier.

Three minutes later Twango arrived with Gark and Gookin at his heels, the latter carrying long-handled man-hooks.

Cugel held up his hand. “Careful, Twango! The varnish is wet!”

Twango called out in a nasal voice: “Cugel, let us have no evasion! Where are the scales?”

“‘Scales’? Why do you want them now?”

“Cugel, the scales, if you please!”

Cugel shrugged. “As you like.” He brought down a tray. “I have had quite a decent morning. Six ‘ordinaries’ and a fine ‘special’! Notice this extraordinary specimen, if you will!”