At the airport Danny popped into a phone-booth and got Orley on the
line--nobody seemed to care, either Outsiders or guards--and he let me
listen.
"Spent your money yet, dead man?" purred Danny.
"Whacha mean, dead man?" gruffed Orley's voice. "You crazy or
something?"
"You know that eleven cents extra you took?" gloated Danny. "It's gonna
kill you, Buster, for killing Uncle Pete, and for everything else you've
done. I know. I've been talking nights to Uncle Pete. You're a dead
duck, Orley Mattup! Dead!"
"That's--I don't believe it, it's baloney! I'm going to spend that
eleven cents and get rid of it."
"You do exactly that, Buster. I locked the curse on it, and I made the
sign on you, and you have to keep that eleven cents the rest of your
life. If you spend it--or if you lose it, and you will lose it--that's
the end of you."
"I'll come out there and pound the hell out of you!" yelled Mattup.
"Too late, Buster, our planes are leaving. Goodbye, dead man!"
And we had to run for our planes. Danny's pitch sounded pretty weak to
me, even though Orley was superstitious, but I didn't get to tell Danny
that until nearly five years later.
* * * * *
"I think I got him," said Danny. "You don't know the whole thing."
A hotel clerk had been listening. "You mean Orley Mattup, the guard? He
got sick, and said he had a hex on him, and took off one day and a lot
later they found him up on the mountain. He was dead."
"Any money on him?" asked Danny.
"Jest some change. They buried it with him; they heard the hex was
locked onto that money."
"Congratulations," I told Danny. "I didn't think it'd work. You scared
him to death."
"Not quite," said Danny. "I scared him into hanging onto the money. That
money would have killed anybody that carried it much longer than the few
minutes I handled it. I'd been keeping the stuff in the reactor beam
tubes. It was radioactive as hell."
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Imagination Stories of Science and
Fantasy_ April 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor
spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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