“They will learn to walk softly in my presence!”

The shadow of a lumpy head and a dapper long-billed cap fell over the table. A voice spoke. “Who will learn to walk softly?”

Cugel looked up to find Gookin peering over the edge of the shelf.

Again the gong sounded. Gookin called out: “Cugel, to your feet! Answer the door! Weamish will instruct you in the routine.”

“As supervisor,” said Cugel, “I hereby assign you to this task. Be quick!”

In response Gookin flourished a small three-stranded knout, each thong terminating in a yellow sting.

Cugel thrust up on the shelf with such force that Gookin sprawled head over heels through the air to fall into a platter of assorted cheeses which had been set out upon the buffet. Cugel picked up the knout and held it at the ready. “Now then: will you go about your duties? Or must I beat you well, then throw both you and your cap into this pot of tripes?”

Into the refectory came Twango on the run, with Gark sitting bulge-eyed on his shoulder. “What is all this commotion? Gookin, why do you lie among the cheeses?”

Cugel said: “Since I am supervisor, you should properly address me. The facts of the case are these: I ordered Gookin to answer the door. He attempted a flagrant insolence, and I was about to chastise him.”

Twango’s face became pink with annoyance. “Cugel, this is not our usual routine! Heretofore the supervisor has habitually answered the door.”

“We now make an instant change! The supervisor is relieved of menial duties. He will earn triple the previous salary, with lodging and sustenance included at no charge.”

Once more the gong sounded. Twango muttered a curse. “Weamish! Answer the door! Weamish? Where are you?”

Weamish had departed the refectory.

Cugel gave a stern order: “Gark! Respond to the gong!”

Gark gave back a surly hiss. Cugel pointed to the door. “Gark, you are hereby discharged, on grounds of insubordination! The same applies to Gookin. Both of you will immediately leave the premises and return to your native swamp.”

Gark, now joined by Gookin, responded only with hisses of defiance.

Cugel turned to Twango. “I fear that unless my authority is affirmed I must resign.”

Twango threw up his arms in vexation. “Enough of this foolishness! While we stand here the gong rings incessantly!” He marched off down the corridor toward the door, with Gark and Gookin bounding behind him.

Cugel followed at a more leisurely gait. Twango threw open the door, to admit a sturdy man of middle age wearing a hooded brown cloak. Behind him came two others in similar garments.

Twango greeted the visitor with respectful familiarity. “Master Soldinck! The time is late! Why, at this hour, do you fare so far?”

Soldinck spoke in a heavy voice: “I bring serious and urgent news, which could not wait an instant.”

Twango stood back aghast. “Mercantides is dead?”

“The tragedy is one of deception and theft!”

“What has been stolen?” asked Twango impatiently. “Who has been deceived?”

“I will recite the facts. Four days ago, at noon precisely, I arrived here with the strong-wagon. I came in company with Rincz and Jornulk, both, as you know, elders and persons of probity.”

“Their reputations have never been assailed, to my knowledge. Why now do you bring them into question?”

“Patience; you shall hear!”

“Proceed! Cugel, you are a man of experience; stand by and exercise your judgment. This, incidentally, is Master Soldinck of the firm Soldinck and Mercantides, Shipping Agents.”

Cugel stepped forward and Soldinck continued his declaration.

“With Rincz and Jornulk, I entered your workroom. There, in our presence, you counted out and we packed six hundred and eighty scales into four crates.”

“Correct. There were four hundred ‘ordinaries’, two hundred ‘specials’ and eighty ‘premium specials’ of unique character.”

“Just so. Together, and in the presence of Weamish, we packed the crates, sealed them, affixed bands and plaques. I suggest that Weamish be summoned, that he may put his wisdom to the solution of our mystery.”

“Gark! Gookin! Be so good as to summon Weamish. Still, Master Soldinck, you have not defined the mystery itself!”

“I will now do so. With yourself, Weamish, Rincz, Jornulk and myself on hand, the scales were encased as always in your workroom. Weamish then, to our supervision, placed the cases upon the wheeled carrier, and we complimented him both for the nicety in which he had decorated the carrier and his care to ensure that the cases might not fall to the ground. Then, with Rincz and me in the lead, you and Jornulk behind, Weamish carefully rolled the cases down the corridor, pausing, so I recall, only long enough to adjust his shoe and comment to me upon the unseasonable chill.”

“Precisely so. Continue.”

“Weamish rolled the carrier to the wagon and the cases were transferred into the strong-box, which was immediately locked. I wrote a receipt to you, which Rincz and Jornulk countersigned, and on which Weamish placed his mark as witness. Finally I paid over to you your money, and you gave me the receipted invoice.

“We drove the wagon directly to Saskervoy, where, with all formality, the cases were transferred into a vault, for dispatch to far Almery.”

“And then?”

“Today, Mercantides thought to verify the quality of the scales. I opened a case, so carefully certified, to find only lumps of mud and gravel. Thereupon all cases were investigated. Each case contained nothing but worthless soil, and there you have the mystery. We hope that either you or Weamish can help us resolve this shocking affair, or, failing that, refund our money.”

“The last possibility is out of the question. I can add nothing to your statement. All went as you have described. Weamish may have noticed some peculiar incident, but surely he would have notified me.”

“Still, his testimony may suggest an area of investigation, if only he would present himself.”

Gark bounded into the room, eyes bulging in excitement. He called out in a rasping voice: “Weamish is on the roof. He is behaving in an unusual manner!”

Twango flourished his arms in distress. “Senile, yes, but foolish so soon? He has only just retired!”

“What?” cried Soldinck. “Weamish retired? A great surprise!”

“For us all! He settled his accounts to the last terce, then declared his retirement.”

“Most odd!” said Soldinck. “We must bring Weamish down from the roof, and at once!”

With Gark bounding ahead, Twango ran out into the garden, with Soldinck, Rincz, Jornulk and Cugel coming after.

The night was dark, illuminated only by a few sickly constellations. Light from within, striking up through the roof-panes, showed Weamish walking a precarious route along the ridge.

Twango called out: “Weamish, why are you walking on high? Come down at once!”

Weamish looked here and there to discover the source of the call. Observing Twango and Soldinck, he uttered a wild cry in which defiance seemed mingled with mirth.