“Let us change the subject,” said Cugel. “When next do you expect to see Master Soldinck?”
“Sometime in the near future. Why do you ask?”
“I am curious as to his commercial methods. For instance, what would he charge Iucounu for a truly notable ‘special’, such as the ‘Skybreak Spatterlight’?”
Twango said heavily: “I doubt if Master Soldinck would release this information. What, may I ask, is the basis for your interest?”
“No great matter. During one of our discussions, Weamish theorized that Soldinck might well prefer to buy expensive ‘specials’ direct from the diver, thus relieving you of considerable detail work.”
For a moment Twango moved his lips without being able to produce words. At last he said: “The idea is inept, in all its phases. Master Soldinck would reject any and all scales of such dubious antecedents. The single authorized dealer is myself, and my seal alone guarantees authenticity. Each scale must be accurately identified and correctly indexed.”
“And the invoices to your staff: they are also accurate and correctly indexed? Or, from sheer idle curiosity, shall I put the question to Master Soldinck?”
Twango angrily took up Cugel’s account once again. “Naturally, there may be small errors, in one or another direction. They tend to balance out in the end … Yes, I see an error here, where Gark misplaced a decimal point. I must counsel him to a greater precision. It is time you were serving tea to Yelleg and Malser. You must cure this slack behaviour! At Flutic we are brisk!”
Cugel sauntered out to the pond. The time was the middle afternoon of a day extraordinarily crisp, with peculiar black-purple clouds veiling the bloated red sun. A wind from the north creased the surface of the slime; Cugel shivered and pulled his cloak up around his neck.
The surface of the pond broke; Yelleg emerged and with crooked arms pulled himself ashore, to stand in a crouch, dripping ooze. He examined his gleanings but found only pebbles, which he discarded in disgust. Malser, on his hands and knees, clambered ashore and joined Yelleg; the two of them ran to the rest hut, only to emerge a moment later in a fury. “Cugel! Where is our tea? The fire is cold ashes! Have you no mercy?”
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.”
