“That is at best an ambiguous response,” said Soldinck.

Twango called again: “Weamish, a number of scales are missing, and we wish to ask a question or two.”

“Ask away, wherever you like and all night long — anywhere except only here. I am walking the roof and do not care to be disturbed.”

“Ah, but Weamish, it is you of whom we wish to ask the questions! You must come down at once!”

“My accounts are settled! I walk where I will!”

Twango clenched his fists. “Master Soldinck is puzzled and disturbed! The missing scales are irreplaceable!”

“No less am I, as you will learn!” Again Weamish uttered his strange cachinnation.

Soldinck spoke sourly: “Weamish has become addled.”

“Work gave his life meaning,” explained Twango. “He dived deep into the slime and found a whole nest of scales, so he paid off his account. Ever since he has been acting strangely.”

Soldinck asked: “When did he find the scales?”

“Only two days ago.” Once more Twango raised his voice. “Weamish! Come down at once! We need your help!”

Soldinck asked: “Weamish found his scales after we had accepted the last shipment?”

“Quite true. One day later, as a matter of fact.”

“A curious coincidence.”

Twango stared at him blankly. “Surely you cannot suspect Weamish!”

“The facts point in his direction.”

Twango turned sharply about. “Gark, Gookin, Cugel! Up to the roof! Help Weamish to the ground!”

Cugel spoke haughtily. “Gark and Gookin are my subordinates. Inform me as to your wishes and I will issue the necessary orders.”

“Cugel, your attitudes have become intolerable! You are hereby demoted! Now, up on the roof with you! I want Weamish brought down at once!”

“I have no head for heights,” said Cugel. “I resign my position.”

“Not until your accounts are settled. They include the fine cheeses into which you flung Gookin.”

Cugel protested, but Twango turned his attention back to the roof and refused to listen.

Weamish strolled back and forth along the ridge. Gark and Gookin appeared behind him. Twango called up: “Weamish, take all precautions! Gark and Gookin will lead the way!”

Weamish gave a final wild scream, and running along the ridge, hurled himself off into space, to land head-first upon the pavement below. Gark and Gookin crept to the edge of the roof to peer pop-eyed down at the limp figure.

After a brief inspection, Twango turned to Soldinck. “I fear that Weamish is dead.”

“What then of the missing scales?”

“You must look elsewhere,” said Twango. “The theft could not have occurred at Flutic.”

“I am not so sure,” said Soldinck. “In fact, I suspect otherwise.”

“You are deceived by coincidences,” said Twango. “The night is chill; let us return inside. Cugel, convey the corpse to the gardener’s shed in the back garden. Weamish’s grave is ready; in the morning you may bury him.”

“If you recall,” said Cugel, “I have resigned my place. I no longer consider myself employed at Flutic, unless you concede distinctly better terms.”

Twango stamped his feet. “Why, at this time of tribulation, must you annoy me with your nonsense? I lack the patience to deal with you! Gark! Gookin! Cugel thinks to shirk his duties!”

Gark and Gookin crept forward. Gookin flung a noose around Cugel’s ankles, while Gark threw a net over Cugel’s head. Cugel fell heavily to the ground, where Gark and Gookin beat him well with short staves.

After a period Twango came to the door. He cried out: “Stop! The clamor offends our ears! If Cugel has changed his mind, let him go about his work.”

Cugel decided to obey Twango’s orders. Cursing under his breath, he dragged the corpse to a shed in the back garden. Then he limped to that hut vacated by Weamish, and here he passed a wakeful night, by reason of sprains, bruises, and contusions.

At an early hour Gark and Gookin pounded on the door. “Out and about your work!” called Gookin. “Twango wishes to inspect the interior of this hut.”

Cugel, despite his aches, had already made such a search, to no avail. He brushed his clothing, adjusted his hat, sauntered from the hut, and stood aside while Gark and Gookin, under Twango’s direction, searched the premises. Soldinck, who apparently had spent the night at Flutic, watched vigilantly from the doorway.

Twango finished the search. “There is nothing here,” he told Soldinck. “Weamish is vindicated!”

“He might have secreted the scales elsewhere!”

“Unlikely! The scales were packed while you watched. Under close guard they were taken to the wagon. You yourself, with Rincz and Jornulk, transferred the cases to your wagon. Weamish had no more opportunity to steal the scales than I myself!”

“Then how do you explain Weamish’s sudden wealth?”

“He found a nest of scales; is that so bizarre?”

Soldinck had nothing more to say. Departing Flutic, he returned over the hill to Saskervoy.

Twango called a staff meeting in the refectory. The group included Yelleg, Malser, Cugel and Bilberd the feeble-minded gardener. Gark and Gookin crouched on a high shelf, monitoring the conduct of all.

Twango spoke somberly. “I stand here today in sorrow! Poor Weamish, while strolling in the dark, suffered an accident and is no longer with us. Sadly, he did not live to enjoy his retirement. This concept alone must give us all cause for reflection!

“There is other news, no less disturbing. Four cases of scales, representing great value, have somehow been pre-empted, or stolen. Does anyone here have information, no matter how trivial, concerning this heinous act?” Twango looked from face to face. “No? … In that case, I have no more to say. All to their tasks, and let Weamish’s lucky find be an inspiration to all!

“One final word! Since Cugel is unfamiliar with the routines of his work, I ask that all extend to him the hand of cheerful good-fellowship and teach him whatever he needs to know. All to work, then, at speed and efficiency!”

Twango called Cugel aside. “Last night we seem to have had a misunderstanding as to the meaning of the word ‘supervisor’. At Flutic, this word denotes a person who supervises the comfort and convenience of his fellow workers, including me, but who by no means controls their conduct.”

“That distinction has already been made clear,” said Cugel shortly.

“Precisely so. Now, as your first duty, you will bury Weamish. His grave is yonder, behind the bilberry bush. At this time you may select a site and excavate a grave for yourself, in the unhappy event that you should die during your tenure at Flutic.”

“This is not to be thought of,” said Cugel. “I have far to go before I die.”