FACE THE FACT

A man on horseback was approaching. Jon recognized him to be the same rider who had gone by on the road Saturday evening, just before the Beans appeared in their truck.

"That's Angus Macklin," said Mary. "He lives up the road beyond the Johnsons. I hope he goes on."

But Angus Macklin, seeing the door open, stopped, dismounted, and came in. he was a short, thick man with round, constant blinking eyes and an easy smile. Jon was not deceived by the smile, though he was fascinated by the repulsive wad of tobacco Angus was chewing.

"Howdy, folks! Howdy!" Angus said heartily. "See you're open for business. Ought to be getting' some customers if the weather holds."

"Little early for tourists," Thomas told him. "How are things, Angus?"

"So-so. Ain't seen Tip an' Lenny around, have you?

"Not this morning. Why aren't they in school?"

"Aw, you know kids," said Angus Macklin. "School's out tomorrow an' it's kinda hard to make 'em go. When they heard about that wild boy, they just took off. Gilby told me about it yesterday after church. Soon's we got home, my kid lit out to hunt 'im. They lit out again first thing this morning, and pretended they were going fishin', but I know better. Mighty queer about that crazy boy. Gilby tell you how far he jumped? Near forty feet!"

"Nonsense!" Thomas said shortly. "Gilby was probably imagining things. Perhaps he saw a stray Cherokee boy."

"Oh I dunno," said Angus, scratching under his cap and blinking owlishly at Jon. "That thing he saw was plumb wild and unnatural. I've seen some queer things myself in these mountains. Lights where there shouldn't be no lights. Heard music where there shouldn't be no music. Heard whispers right where there shouldn't be no lights. My kids can take care of themselves, but all the same, that wild thing could be dangerous." He paused. "Nice lookin' boy you got here. Ain't noticed him around. He visitin' you folks?"

Thomas nodded. "Jon O'Connor. Son of an old friend of mine in the Marines."

Angus smiled meaninglessly and grunted. "Well, I'll go along. You see them fool

Kids o' mine, tell 'em I want 'em home."

They watched him ride away. Thomas said, a little angrily, "So, the news is out. I should have known Gilby would tell somebody like Angus. It is going to spread out all over the mountains and get wilder every time it is told."

He drew forth the knife and clip he had hidden under the workbench. As he studied them again, he began to whistle softly through his teeth.

"Out with it," said Mary. "Are the gems real?"

"They're real. I can't quite believe it. Jon, have you any idea what these things are worth?"

Jon looked at him intently before replying albeit with an "It's not worth what you're thinking" expression. "They are not worth what you're thinking they are, Mr. Bean. You're thinking they're worth more than your house and everything in the shop but that's wrong. Anyway, a thing shouldn't have two values."

"Two Values?" said Thomas, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes sir," he said seriously. "You're judging the value of my knife by the amount of money you could sell it for. But that has nothing to do with its real value."

Thomas whistled softly. "I know what you mean, Jon. But it's a good thing we're not in business together, or we'd never make a profit."

"But- but doesn't the idea of profit seem wrong to you?"

"It's part of our free enterprise system, Jon," Thomas answered. "If Mary and I couldn't make a little profit on the things we sell, we'd soon go broke and wouldn't have enough to eat."

Again the dreadful feeling of lostness poured over Jon. He was sure of the answer now. Mary Bean had guessed it. He was a long way from home.

Suddenly he turned, peering out of the back window as he heard Rascal barking. Rascal was lost, too, though in a different way, chained in a world where everything seemed, if not wrong, at least very different.

"Please," he begged, "May I take Rascal out of his pen? I promise he'll be good."

Thomas frowned, but Mary said, let him try it, Thomas. I'm sure he can manage Rascal."

"Um- okay. We'll chance it this once. And here's your knife, unless you want me to keep it in the safe. You don't want to lose anything like this."

"Oh, I won't lose it, sir. I'll need it to- to-"

"Go on," Mary said quietly. "You need it to- to do what with it?"

"I don't know. Maybe it will come back if I run with Rascal. I think running will help."

As he darted out the door, Mary said, "He's upset, Thomas. I think he sees the truth. Can't you see it, too? You've got enough facts . . . or is it that you don't want to face the facts?"

"But, Mary, All the facts don't make sense. I simply can't see the-"

"Look at him!" she gasped, staring through the rear window. "Thomas-look!"

In his eagerness to release Rascal, Jon was racing up the steep lane. Unconsciously he had made his feet light, so that his boots hardly even touched. Only a Mountain deer could have equaled his upward bounds.

"You win," Thomas said firmly, expelling a long breath.

"I don't know how he got here, and I actually can't understand why some things are so familiar to him . . . but he didn't come from this world."

"Of course not. What are we going to do?"

"H'mm. Seems like the important thing is to find out how he got here, if we can. I'm afraid I see trouble ahead of us