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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32880-h.zip b/32880-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3e9ab3 --- /dev/null +++ b/32880-h.zip diff --git a/32880-h/32880-h.htm b/32880-h/32880-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9bf09b --- /dev/null +++ b/32880-h/32880-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1515 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Death Makes A Mistake, by AUTHOR. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Death Makes A Mistake, by P.F. Costello + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Death Makes A Mistake + +Author: P.F. Costello + +Release Date: June 18, 2010 [EBook #32880] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH MAKES A MISTAKE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>DEATH MAKES A MISTAKE</h1> + +<h2>By P. F. COSTELLO</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories January +1943. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote">Mr. Demise had Reggie Van Fiddler's name in his book, but +Reggie didn't want to be on any list, so he set out to correct the +mistake!</div> + + +<p>When Reggie Van Fiddler sauntered into the cool somber depths of the +Midland Club's lobby, he was feeling in an exceptionally amiable mood. +There was a song in his heart and a bland, dreamily vague smile on his +long, narrow face.</p> + +<p>This state of blissful tranquility could be attributed to the fact that +Reggie's tan and white shoes were taking him directly toward the Club +Bar, where he planned to while away the day sipping various long, cool +drinks. And Reggie was always happy when the immediate future held the +prospects of a drink.</p> + +<p>He nodded brightly to a uniformed attendant.</p> + +<p>"Glorious morning, isn't he?" he said.</p> + +<p>"It was a glorious morning," the attendant corrected politely.</p> + +<p>Reggie looked blankly at a clock on the wall and a puzzled frown spread +over his equine features.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he muttered, shaking his head, "how'd that happen?" He +sauntered on toward the bar, nibbling at a hang nail. The morning had +slipped away from him somehow. Here it was two o'clock in the afternoon +already. It was quite a blow.</p> + +<p>He remembered then that he had slept until twelve thirty and he +brightened considerably. That explained it. Whistling merrily he strode +on into the dim cool bar, with its heavy brown fixtures and solid +atmosphere of masculinity.</p> + +<p>The bartender set up his usual drink and with knowledge born of long +experience, immediately began the preparation of a second.</p> + +<p>Reggie sipped his drink and relaxed.</p> + +<p>For several moments he stood at the bar, lazily contented, his brain +slowed to about one revolution per minute. Finally he happened to glance +toward the end of the bar and he noticed a small, dark, narrow-eyed man +watching him closely.</p> + +<p>Reggie smiled uncertainly and returned to his drink. The dark man at the +end of the bar was the only other customer and Reggie knew that he was +not a member of the club, for he had never seen him before in his life.</p> + +<p>Reggie finished his drink and when the bartender set another before him +he glanced again toward the end of the bar. The little dark man was +still there, regarding him, it seemed, with a steady fixed stare.</p> + +<p>Reggie coughed nervously and gulped his drink. There was something in +the dark little man's beady-eyed gaze that disturbed him. He had another +quick drink and peeked from the corner of his eye at the little dark +man.</p> + +<p>There was something sinister about the chap, he felt sure. Reggie was +the owner of an extremely lurid imagination and now, warmed by the glow +of alcohol, he began to envision all sorts of wild possibilities.</p> + +<p>After his fourth drink he was certain that the man was an Axis agent. +Just why an Axis agent would be staring at him he had no idea, but he +still felt sure the man was a Nazi.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Reggie finished his drink and set the glass on the bar. Then he casually +sauntered toward the door. A few paces from the room's only exit, he +paused and under the pretense of inspecting a faded sports print on the +wall, sneaked a quick glance at the dark little man.</p> + +<p>The dark little man was still staring at him with narrowed, shaded eyes.</p> + +<p>Reggie yawned ostentatiously and inched closer to the door. He was going +to make a break for it, but it would have to be fast and clever. His +heart was pounding with more gusto than usual and there were bright +spots of excitement in his pale cheeks. This new role of dodging the +Gestapo appealed enormously to his comic strip sense of melodrama.</p> + +<p>Headlines popped before his mind's eye.</p> + +<h3>REGGIE VAN FIDDLER MAKES ESCAPE! </h3> + +<p>From what he was going to escape he wasn't quite sure, but he felt that +the details would be in the body of the news story. Headlines didn't +tell everything, did they?</p> + +<p>Within a foot of the door he turned casually and took one last look at +the little man who was staring so intently at him. Then, with a sudden +slithering motion, he slipped through the door.</p> + +<p>He collided heavily with a small figure.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."</p> + +<p>He turned and started away, but he had barely taken three strides when +he jerked to a stop. An expression of dazed amazement stole over his +face and his sleepy eyes opened wide.</p> + +<p>Wheeling suddenly he stared back at the small figure he had collided +with. The man was still standing in the corridor that led from the bar, +regarding Reggie with a fixed, thoughtful expression.</p> + +<p>And he was the same dark little man Reggie had left <i>inside</i> the bar +room seconds before!</p> + +<p>Reggie gulped audibly. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat like a +mouse in a sock.</p> + +<p><i>How had the dark little man gotten out of the bar ahead of him?</i></p> + +<p>Reggie didn't know and he had no inclination to wait and ask questions. +With one last incredulous look over his shoulder he wheeled and loped +across the lobby, down the marble steps, through the club's revolving +doors and into the street.</p> + +<p>He walked swiftly, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The experience had been an unnerving one. When he reached the end of the +block he hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of another bar.</p> + +<p>As the cab rolled across the Loop Reggie settled back and gnawed +nervously at his finger nails. Thoughtful meditation and analysis were +not his strongest suits; in fact any thinking at all was an annoying +chore to him, but he felt now that he had better bend his brain to the +problem of the dark little man whom he'd seen at the club.</p> + +<p>The chap was obviously interested in him, but why? There was no +reasonable answer to that question, and there was no explanation to the +way the little fellow had popped up <i>outside</i> the bar, when Reggie had +seen him, a split-second before, <i>inside</i> the bar.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Reggie was still stewing over these matters when the cab came to a stop +before a swanky glitter joint which catered to afternoon revellers and +jitterbugs of both sexes.</p> + +<p>Inside the smoky, dimly lighted den of din and discord Reggie forgot his +troubles long enough to order a drink, his fifth of the afternoon. He +was conscious of a vague buzzing between his ears and there was a +pleasant mellow glow in the region of his solar plexus.</p> + +<p>Had it not been for his disturbing experience at the Midland club, he +would have been feeling very, very fine.</p> + +<p>When his drink arrived he sipped it appreciatively and glanced about the +crowded bar, looking for a familiar face. In one corner of the room he +saw a tall young man in tweeds lounging against the wall with a drink in +his hand. With a glad cry Reggie scrambled from his bar stool and +lurched across the crowded floor, weaving his way with drunken dexterity +through the jitterbugging maniacs.</p> + +<p>"Hi!" he cried, when he reached the tweed-clad young man's side. "How've +you been, Ricky? Have a drink?"</p> + +<p>"Been fine," the young man answered. "Got a drink. Name isn't Ricky."</p> + +<p>"Not Ricky?" Reggie shook his head frowning. "Could've sworn you were +good old Ricky Davis, chap I knew at school. Well, how're things?"</p> + +<p>"Good," the young man answered. "Have a drink?"</p> + +<p>"Got one," Reggie said. "Got to go now. It's been nice seeing you again, +Ricky."</p> + +<p>He started to weave his way back to the bar. Suddenly he stopped, his +eyes focusing in fascination on the figure of a man at the bar. A man +who had appropriated the seat which Reggie had vacated.</p> + +<p>The man was small and dark. His eyes were narrow and inscrutable. He was +the same person Reggie had seen at the club.</p> + +<p>The breath left Reggie's lungs in a rush.</p> + +<p>Obviously the man had followed him here!</p> + +<p>As he stood, transfixed, in the middle of the floor, the man turned and +looked straight at him, a peculiar thoughtful expression on his dark +face. After studying Reggie for a long interval he turned slowly back to +the bar.</p> + +<p>Reggie swallowed what was left of his drink in one gulp, but the liquor +had no effect on him. After the shock he'd received it would take liquid +dynamite to bolster him up.</p> + +<p>He reeled back to the tall young man who was leaning against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Ricky!" he cried hoarsely. "I'm being followed. Axis agents are after +me."</p> + +<p>"Name isn't Ricky," the tall young man said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Why what?" Reggie said blankly. He seemed to have fumbled the +conversational ball. He wished the young man would speak with more +clarity and add a few articles and pronouns to his sentences.</p> + +<p>"Why are they following you?" the young man said peevishly. "Nothing +better to do?"</p> + +<p>"That's just it," Reggie said. "I don't know why I'm being followed. But +everywhere I go this little man sticks to me like a postage stamp."</p> + +<p>"Where is he now?"</p> + +<p>Reggie pointed dramatically at the dark little man.</p> + +<p>"At the bar. He took the stool I left. He's right between that fat old +man and that young girl with the red hair."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The tweed-clad young man stared in the direction of Reggie's pointing +finger, then he frowned and glanced down at Reggie.</p> + +<p>"Any pink elephants, yet?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not drunk," Reggie said indignantly. "That man has been following +me like a conga partner all afternoon."</p> + +<p>The tall young man patted Reggie patiently on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Sleep and rest will make a new man of you," he said. "Go home. Go to +bed. You've got hallucinations."</p> + +<p>"Hallucinations!" Reggie cried over the din of the orchestra. "What do +you mean? Don't you see the man I mean? Right between the fat old man +and the girl with the red hair?"</p> + +<p>The tweedish young man shook his head.</p> + +<p>"The stool between the fat old man and the red-haired girl is completely +unoccupied," he said in the patient voice of a man instructing a very +young child.</p> + +<p>Reggie shook his head bewilderedly. There was a sudden cold hollow in +the pit of his stomach. He opened and closed his mouth several times +without producing a sound.</p> + +<p>"Are you serious?" he finally managed to gasp.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," the young man answered. "There's no one on the bar stool +you left. You're just seeing things. Take my advice and go home. You've +had too much giggle water."</p> + +<p>Reggie set his drink down hastily. For a long deliberate moment he +studied the back of the dark little man at the bar. Then he shook his +head dazedly. Maybe this was all some wild product of his imagination. +Maybe he <i>was</i> having hallucinations....</p> + +<p>He shook his head again and then he shook hands with the young man in +the tweed suit.</p> + +<p>"I'm going home, Ricky," he said firmly. "Say hello to all the gang for +me."</p> + +<p>"Name isn't Ricky," the young man said, sipping from his drink, "but +I'll tell the boys you were asking."</p> + +<p>"Good," Reggie said.</p> + +<p>He left the crowded bar by a back entrance. The warm sunshine was +pleasant and reassuring. People hurried past him, traffic surged in the +streets, and everything was quite normal. He breathed a deep sigh and +hailed a cab. He gave the driver the address of his apartment and then +settled back against the soft leather cushions.</p> + +<p>Sleep was all he needed. That was all.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When he reached his apartment on the near North Side he had succeeded in +convincing himself that his peculiar experiences of the afternoon were +only products of his fevered imagination.</p> + +<p>As he let himself into his apartment he had firmly resolved to strictly +ration his reading of comic strips and spy magazines. They were pretty +strong meat if they weren't handled with discretion.</p> + +<p>The pleasantly furnished living room of his apartment was shrouded in +late-afternoon semi-darkness and, when he closed and locked the door +behind him, he switched on the lights.</p> + +<p>The first thing he saw when he walked into the room was the little dark +man whom he'd seen at the Club and at the bar a few minutes previously.</p> + +<p>The dark little man was sitting in a straight chair, his hands resting +on his knees. There was a faint smile on his face as he studied Reggie +with calm, inscrutable eyes.</p> + +<p>Reggie staggered back a few steps, clapping one hand hysterically to his +forehead. He couldn't believe his eyes. He had left this man at a bar in +the Loop, but here he was now, sitting calmly and unconcernedly in the +living room of his apartment.</p> + +<p>"How did you get in here?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>The dark little man stood up and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Is that important?" he asked softly. "I am here and that is all that +matters."</p> + +<p>Reggie swallowed loudly. There was something disturbing about the calm +ambiguity of the man's statement. He rubbed his damp palms together +nervously.</p> + +<p>"Can I get you a drink?" he blurted.</p> + +<p>The dark little man shook his head slowly.</p> + +<p>Reggie looked at him uneasily, noticing him in detail for the first +time. He was small, hardly more than five feet two and he was slenderly +built. His hair was jet black and it combed straight back from a high, +delicate forehead. He wore severely tailored black clothes that fitted +his small frame without a wrinkle. But his eyes dominated his entire +personality, for they were a cold chilling black, lusterless and +unwinking, as unrevealing as twin diamonds.</p> + +<p>Reggie shivered slightly and looked wistfully toward the door of the +apartment. He coughed nervously.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to seem rude," he said, laughing weakly, "but I've got to be +toddling off now. It's been nice—er—running into you. There are +magazines on the table, liquor in the ice box, so just make yourself at +home."</p> + +<p>He backed cautiously toward the door, smiling nervously.</p> + +<p>"Don't wait up for me," he said. "I've—"</p> + +<p>"Wait," the dark little man said quietly, "I must talk with you."</p> + +<p>"Some other time," Reggie said, feeling behind him for the door knob. +"Awfully rushed just now. Sorry but—"</p> + +<p>"Wait!" the little man said again, but this time his voice cracked like +a whip. "Didn't you hear me? I must talk with you?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Reggie jumped at the cracking tone of the man's voice. His hand jerked +away from the door knob as if it were red hot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you want to talk to me?" he said foolishly. "I didn't understand +you."</p> + +<p>"My name," the little man said, "is," he paused and smiled cryptically, +"Demise."</p> + +<p>"Glad to know you," Reggie said. "My name is—"</p> + +<p>"I know your name," Mr. Demise said. "I know everything about you, +Reginald Van Fiddler. I know things about you that you don't know +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Do you now?" Reggie said, becoming interested in spite of himself. "For +instance?"</p> + +<p>"I know that you are about to take a long trip," Mr. Demise said.</p> + +<p>"That's not news," Reggie said. "My draft board just classified me 1-A. +I'll be taking a long trip very shortly."</p> + +<p>"That is not the trip I am referring to," Mr. Demise said. "You are +going on a trip with me."</p> + +<p>Reggie blinked. He couldn't think of anyone with whom he would rather +not take a trip than this dark, sinister little man who called himself +Mr. Demise. What did Demise mean, anyway?</p> + +<p>"It's nice of you, and all that," he said, "but I don't think I'll be +able to make it. My draft board might not like it."</p> + +<p>"They will understand," Mr. Demise said.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," Reggie said. He was beginning really to +worry. There was something damnably inevitable about Mr. Demise's calm +statements. "They're pretty ticklish about such things. I think we'd +just better forget the whole idea."</p> + +<p>"That is impossible," Mr. Demise said.</p> + +<p>Reggie rubbed his moist palms on his trouser legs.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he asked hesitantly. "Have you been following me around +all day just to sell me on the idea of a trip? Are you from Cook's +tours?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise smiled and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I am not interested in selling you the idea of a trip. I am simply +telling you that you are going on a trip. I have already made all the +arrangements. There is nothing that can possibly change them."</p> + +<p>"Where am I going?" Reggie asked. His voice was a whisper.</p> + +<p>"With me," Mr. Demise said.</p> + +<p>"That's no answer," Reggie said, clutching at straws. "Who are you? +Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise smiled again, very faintly. He walked slowly to the +mantelpiece and plucked a rose from a vase. His hand closed gently over +the flower as he turned to face Reggie.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps this will answer your questions," he said softly.</p> + +<p>He opened his hand and dropped the flower to the floor at Reggie's feet. +Reggie's eyes widened in sheer amazement.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>Reggie looked at the seared rose, and then he knew...!</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>For the soft glowing beauty of the flower was faded forever. It lay on +the floor, a blackened, dead reminder of its former glory.</p> + +<p>"It's dead," he said incredulously. "It withered at the touch of your +hand."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Demise nodded slowly and there was a wistful sadness in his face.</p> + +<p>"All living things die at my touch," he said. "For I am Death!"</p> + +<p>"Death!" Reggie echoed. For an instant he stared blankly at Mr. Demise. +"Death!" he repeated. "Why that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever +heard." He actually felt a sensation of relief in the realization that +he'd been entertaining some loony instead of an Axis agent as he'd +feared. "You're off your trolley," he said to Mr. Demise. "You'd better +get moving before your keeper finds you. Death! What a gag!"</p> + +<p>"I assure you it is not a gag," Mr. Demise said slowly. "Your time is +near at hand and I have been sent to take you to the land of Darkness."</p> + +<p>"Think again, chum," Reggie said emphatically. "I'm not going to Harlem +with you or anyone else and that's final."</p> + +<p>"It is useless to protest," Mr. Demise said. "Your destiny is sealed. +You must come with me."</p> + +<p>"You are plain balmy," Reggie said. "I've never heard a sillier yarn in +my life. So you're Death, are you?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise nodded. "I am one of his agents."</p> + +<p>"Changing your story a little, aren't you?" Reggie said triumphantly. +"Well, since when has Death been announced by personal messengers? A man +steps in front of a car. He's killed. That's all there is to it. There +aren't little black men standing on the curb pushing him into the +street, are there? And they don't come around a couple of hours in +advance tipping him off, do they? No!"</p> + +<p>"When a mortal passes over," Mr. Demise said, "there is always an agent +of Death present superintending the details. But he is not always +visible to his charge."</p> + +<p>Reggie poured himself a drink and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Well, thanks just the same," he said, "but I don't want any special +effects when I pass over. If there's a messenger of Death around I don't +<i>want</i> to see him. Just let him stay invisible. That's the way I want +it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise looked slightly pained. There was an embarrassed look on his +normally expressionless features.</p> + +<p>"Usually the agent of Death is invisible," he said. "In fact his orders +are to remain invisible under all circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Okay then," Reggie said. "You're breaking orders. Be a nice obedient +chum now and fade away."</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise shrugged and stepped backward—<i>and suddenly he was gone</i>! He +had disappeared into thin air, soundlessly, instantaneously.</p> + +<p>"Why what?" Reggie said blandly. He started to sip his drink when +suddenly the full realization of what had happened burst on him. The +drink fell from his nerveless fingers with a crash.</p> + +<p>He stared frantically about the room.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Demise was gone!</i> It was incredible! It was unbelievable! But it +was a fact!</p> + +<p>He poured himself another drink and drained it in one breathless gulp. +He felt his reason tottering as his gaze swung desperately about the +room.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Demise!" he cried. "Come back! Where are you!"</p> + +<p>"I am here before you," Mr. Demise's voice sounded in the air. "Are you +convinced now?"</p> + +<p>Reggie mopped his forehead weakly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he gasped. "I'm convinced."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Demise reappeared as suddenly as he had vanished. He smiled faintly +at Reggie. He was apparently completely unruffled by his transformation.</p> + +<p>Reggie poured himself another drink with trembling fingers.</p> + +<p>"D-don't do that any more," he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"As you wish," Mr. Demise said agreeably. "I am sorry if I shocked you. +I can see now that it was a mistake to let you see me in the first +place. I understand now why it is strictly forbidden."</p> + +<p>Reggie drained his drink.</p> + +<p>"I wish you hadn't decided to break regulations," he said moodily. "I've +never been so upset in all my life. Why didn't you remain invisible, if +you're supposed to? You aren't going to creep into people's hearts if +you pop up and announce yourself as an agent of Death and start making +speeches about whisking them off to the Land of Darkness. People just +don't like that sort of thing. By all means stay invisible in the +future."</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise shuffled awkwardly and for the first time his poise seemed +deserting him.</p> + +<p>"You're absolutely right," he said gloomily. "But I was curious."</p> + +<p>"That's a fine excuse," Reggie said scathingly. "I should think they'd +get a man of tact and diplomacy for your job. Not some nosy person whose +curiosity runs away with him."</p> + +<p>"You see," Mr. Demise explained miserably, "you happened to be my first +assignment. I've had no experience at all in this work and I was curious +to see what kind of person I was going to take back with me. And I +wanted to get a first-hand reaction from you."</p> + +<p>Reggie mixed himself another drink. He was beginning to feel +belligerent.</p> + +<p>"So?" he cried. "They sent an amateur down to get me, did they? I +suppose I don't rate an experienced escort. So they sent you. I'm +surprised they didn't just tell the office boy to do the job."</p> + +<p>"Your levity is poor taste," Mr. Demise observed frigidly. "I can assure +you that I am perfectly qualified to act as your guide to the Other +World. I have studied hard to perfect myself for my work and I was +considered one of the outstanding pupils in the class which just +graduated. You do not have to relieve your spite by making slighting +references to my professional ability."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" Reggie said. "If you have any professional ability it hasn't been +noticeable so far. You're just out of some college, aren't you? You talk +like a college boy. You don't make sense."</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise looked hurt.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you're taking this attitude," he said. "I had hoped we could +be friends."</p> + +<p>"Friends!" Reggie shrieked. "Am I expected to be friendly with some +ghoul who comes prowling around threatening to whisk me off to Eternity? +What more do they expect of me? To pay my own way too, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Your passage will be taken care of at the other end," Mr. Demise said. +"Since you have taken such an ungracious stand we will not dally +further."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Now wait a minute," Reggie said. He felt his throat getting dry. The +prospects of Death were not pleasant. He didn't want to die right now. +He had things to do. There was that badminton match next week with +Snuffy Smith....</p> + +<p>"Can't we put this thing off a while?" he asked hopefully. "There's no +sense in rushing things, I always say. Why don't you go off and get +yourself a lot of experience and then come back for me?"</p> + +<p>"That is impossible," Mr. Demise said flatly. He drew from his inside +coat pocket a slim black book which he opened to the first page. "You +are first on my list and I must carry out my orders to the letter. All +the information as to person, place and method is contained in this book +and it would be impossible to change it."</p> + +<p>"Place and method, eh?" Reggie said weakly. He ran a finger around the +inside of his collar. "You mean you've got the dope there on how it's +going to happen and when it's going to happen?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Mr. Demise replied. "We don't use a hit-or-miss method. +Everything is worked out to a science. You, for instance, are—" Mr. +Demise paused and shook his head. "No," he continued, "I can't tell you. +That is also against instructions."</p> + +<p>"You haven't paid much attention to instructions so far," Reggie said +sulkily. "Can't you give me a hint as to how I'm going to get it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise shook his head firmly.</p> + +<p>"That would be an unthinkable breach of conduct," he said, shaking his +head severely and frowning. "Absolutely unthinkable."</p> + +<p>"All right," Reggie said resignedly. There was no point, he realized, in +arguing with this inhuman icicle. "But let's have a drink before we get +down to—er—business."</p> + +<p>"I am not allowed to drink while on duty," Mr. Demise said primly.</p> + +<p>"For gosh sakes," Reggie said disgustedly, "you weren't thinking about +your precious orders and regulations when you followed me around, +scaring the hell out of me. Oh no! That was all right. But when I ask +you to do a little something outside the letter of your instructions +it's no soap. If there's anything fair in that I can't see it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise shuffled uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"It was indiscreet of me to allow you to see me," he said thoughtfully. +"Perhaps your objection is justifiable. It might square things a bit if +I would take a drink with you. Not that I would expect to enjoy the +stuff but it seems the fair thing to do."</p> + +<p>"Fine," Reggie said.</p> + +<p>He mixed two drinks in somber silence. Because he realized that it was +probably the last time he would ever perform that pleasant chore, he put +his heart and soul into the task and when he finally handed Mr. Demise +his drink it was a veritable masterpiece.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise drank the drink—it was a double Martini with a splash of +Quantro—in one long appreciative gulp. He set the glass down and sighed +contentedly.</p> + +<p>"Another?" Reggie suggested hopefully.</p> + +<p>"No," Mr. Demise said, "one is plenty. As a matter of fact," he said, +"that's the first drink I ever had. Alcohol is one of our finest helpers +but we aren't supposed to touch it. Personally I think its intoxicating +effect is greatly overrated."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Reggie leaned forward and there was a peculiar gleam in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"So that was your first drink, eh?" he asked. "And you don't feel +anything?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing," said Mr. Demise. "Of course I notice a certain glow, but +that's all."</p> + +<p>"Just a certain glow, eh?" Reggie said.</p> + +<p>"Thash all," Mr. Demise said. He sat down suddenly. "And my tongue ish a +lil' thick."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's only natural," Reggie said. He mixed another drink and +there was a cryptic smile on his lips. "Alcohol is a peculiar thing. One +drink will addle a person's wits and the second will act as an antidote. +Strange, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise rocked slightly in the chair. His coal-black eyes were a bit +glazed. "Ish very strange," he conceded.</p> + +<p>"Possibly you'd like to try the antidote?" Reggie said casually.</p> + +<p>"Might not be a bad idea," said Mr. Demise.</p> + +<p>Reggie handed him the second drink and watched contentedly as Mr. Demise +drank it down. Mr. Demise set down the glass.</p> + +<p>"You wush right," he said, slumping against the back of the chair. +"Absolutely right. Second drink ish an antidote. Jush what I needed."</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," Reggie agreed solemnly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise closed his eyes but he opened them almost immediately. He +struggled up to a sitting position.</p> + +<p>"I hash something to do," he muttered. His hand groped into the inside +of his coat, returned with the slim black book. "Very important," he +mumbled. "First assignment. Can't have any slip ups."</p> + +<p>Reggie moistened his lips nervously. He eyed the little black book +carefully. That might be the way....</p> + +<p>"How about another drink, old boy," he said heartily. He mixed one +quickly, handed it to Mr. Demise. Mr. Demise took it in his left hand +and Reggie deftly plucked the black book from his right hand. Mr. Demise +appeared not to notice the exchange. He drank the drink methodically.</p> + +<p>Reggie tossed the book under a coffee table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise climbed unsteadily to his feet.</p> + +<p>Reggie took him by the arm. "What say we go out and have a few quick +antidotes?" he suggested.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise nodded stupidly. He mumbled something unintelligible and +allowed Reggie to lead him to the door. Reggie's brain was working at +full speed. If he could just ditch Mr. Demise and get back to the book +everything might be saved. His idea was sheer brilliance....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Their first destination was a bar. Reggie found a cab, shoved Mr. Demise +inside and ordered the driver to one of the dozens of friendly bars with +which he was familiar.</p> + +<p>At the first stop Mr. Demise had two more drinks. When he had drained +the second Reggie hauled him to his feet and started for another palate +palace. His object was to keep Mr. Demise so bewildered and drunk that +he would forget his job.</p> + +<p>For a while he succeeded. Mr. Demise followed him helplessly from bar to +bar and sat tottering on high stools happily pouring fiery intoxicants +into his already overburdened stomach.</p> + +<p>But finally he reached the state of saturation where the liquor produced +a steadily diminishing effect. Reggie watched him worriedly and ordered +more and more drinks.</p> + +<p>But it was no use.</p> + +<p>In spite of the enormous quantities of liquor he had consumed, Mr. +Demise was slowly sobering up. His face was losing its blank expression +and an intelligent gleam was creeping back into his eyes.</p> + +<p>He began to fumble uncertainly through his pockets, a worried expression +settling over his features.</p> + +<p>Reggie slapped him on the back resoundingly.</p> + +<p>"Have a drink!" he shouted into his ear.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise shook his head stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"Got a job to do," he muttered. He went slowly through his pockets and +an expression of horror replaced the worried look on his face.</p> + +<p>"Where's my book?" he gasped. "I've lost my book! This is terrible. I've +got to find it!"</p> + +<p>"What book?" Reggie asked innocently.</p> + +<p>"The book with all the names and places and dates and methods," Mr. +Demise moaned. "I've lost it."</p> + +<p>Reggie shrugged philosophically.</p> + +<p>"Too bad," he said. "But things are never as black as they seem. Maybe +it'll turn up somewhere. The thing to do is just sit tight until someone +finds it and reports it."</p> + +<p>"I can't wait," wailed Mr. Demise. "These things have to happen on +schedule. There'd be an awful rumpus in the complaint department if I +started sending people up there haphazardly. And I don't even remember +whom I've got on the list. You're the only one I'm sure of."</p> + +<p>Reggie choked on his drink.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mr. Demise went on obliviously, "you're the first. I'm sure of +that much. And I'd better send you along right away. I'll do that much +correctly, at least."</p> + +<p>"Now, just a minute," Reggie said, "how're you sure you've got me right? +I looked at that book and I don't think I'm the man you want at all."</p> + +<p>"You looked at the book!" cried Mr. Demise with sudden suspicion. "So +that's where it went. That's why you got me drunk. You stole my book, +hoping to evade your destiny, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort," Reggie said, forcing a note of outraged +indignation into his voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes you did," Mr. Demise said. "I'm not going to wait a second longer +in your case. Mr. Fiddler, prepare yourself for a long trip and don't +plan on coming back."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Reggie realized that the jig was up. Mr. Demise had a grim business-like +note in his voice and there was no hope of prolonging things further. +Drastic action was needed, not discussion.</p> + +<p>With a leap like a startled gazelle Reggie left his stool and bounded +for the door. Before Mr. Demise could turn around, he was in the street, +shouting frantically for a cab.</p> + +<p>A cab pulled to the curb and Reggie leaped into its dark interior. Over +his shoulder he saw Mr. Demise stagger from the bar, a wrathful +expression stamped on his dark features.</p> + +<p>The cab started away with a roar. Reggie shouted his address at the +driver and squirmed about to peek out the rear window.</p> + +<p>He saw Mr. Demise clambering into another cab.</p> + +<p>"Hurry!" he shouted to his driver.</p> + +<p>"Life or death, eh?" the cabby said conversationally.</p> + +<p>Reggie winced. "You said it."</p> + +<p>The cab caromed around corners, hit the Outer Drive and hurled along +like a frightened cotton-tail until it reached the near North side, +where it swung west and sped through the labyrinthine streets that led +to Reggie's apartment.</p> + +<p>From the rear window Reggie could see Mr. Demise's cab speeding after +them, steadily closing the gap. His palms were moist and the effects of +the liquor had completely faded, leaving him horribly sober. There was +nothing funny about this predicament.</p> + +<p>His cab jolted to a stop and Reggie threw a bill at the driver and +leaped out and raced into the foyer of his building.</p> + +<p>By a miraculous stroke of luck the elevator was not in use. He slammed +the door and jabbed the button and the car started upward with a jerk. +He breathed a long shuddering sigh of relief. Maybe there would yet be +time....</p> + +<p>The elevator stopped at his floor. Just as he opened the door and +stepped out, the elevator suddenly dropped back down the shaft. One of +his legs dangled down the shaft. With a startled squawk he pulled +himself onto the floor landing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Demise obviously meant business. If he'd been in that elevator +everything would be all over now. As it was he still had a chance.</p> + +<p>He let himself into his apartment, switched on the light and dove +underneath the coffee table. The black book of doom was still there. +Frantically Reggie opened it to the first page, found his own name.</p> + +<p>He jerked a pencil from his pocket....</p> + +<p>He was still scribbling furiously when the door of the apartment banged +open and Mr. Demise strode into the room, his face black as a +thundercloud.</p> + +<p>Reggie dropped the pencil and hid the book from view with his body.</p> + +<p>"So!" Mr. Demise cried. "You would try to escape?"</p> + +<p>He raised both hands commandingly in the air.</p> + +<p>Before he could move again Reggie wheeled about.</p> + +<p>"Just a minute," he shrieked. He held out the slim black book to Mr. +Demise. "I was sure a mistake had been made. Here! Look for yourself."</p> + +<p>"I want no more of your tricks," Mr. Demise warned ominously.</p> + +<p>"This is no trick," Reggie said. "You should be grateful to me for +catching the error in time."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Demise took the book from Reggie and examined it carefully. The +frown gradually faded from his face as his eyes lingered on the page. He +shuffled his feet awkwardly and cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>"It seems," he said in a small, chastened voice, "that a mistake has +been made."</p> + +<p>Reggie's heart pounded with hope.</p> + +<p>"It certainly has," he said. "This entire affair should be reported to +someone. That's what happens when you put inexperienced men on the job. +You wind up with a bungled mess."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how it happened," Mr. Demise said miserably. "All I can +say is I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Fine thing," Reggie said stuffily. "Mess up your job like this and then +say you're sorry. I'd advise, Demise, that you lay off the liquor when +you're supposed to be working."</p> + +<p>"I will in the future," Mr. Demise said humbly.</p> + +<p>"See that you do," Reggie said sternly. "Now I'd say you'd better get to +work on that first assignment."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will," Mr. Demise said. With drooping shoulders he moved slowly +to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned again to Reggie.</p> + +<p>"I hate to be a pest," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't know how to go +about this job. Maybe you could help me. Where can I find this fellow?"</p> + +<p>Reggie chuckled and began to mix himself a drink.</p> + +<p>"I'd advise you to try Berchtesgaden," he said. "Just ask anyone you +meet. They'll tell you where you can find Adolf Hitler."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Mr. Demise said gratefully. "I won't slip up on this one."</p> + +<p>"See that you don't," Reggie said.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Death Makes A Mistake, by P.F. 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Costello + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Death Makes A Mistake + +Author: P.F. Costello + +Release Date: June 18, 2010 [EBook #32880] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH MAKES A MISTAKE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + DEATH MAKES A MISTAKE + + By P. F. COSTELLO + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories January +1943. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: Mr. Demise had Reggie Van Fiddler's name in his book, but +Reggie didn't want to be on any list, so he set out to correct the +mistake!] + + +When Reggie Van Fiddler sauntered into the cool somber depths of the +Midland Club's lobby, he was feeling in an exceptionally amiable mood. +There was a song in his heart and a bland, dreamily vague smile on his +long, narrow face. + +This state of blissful tranquility could be attributed to the fact that +Reggie's tan and white shoes were taking him directly toward the Club +Bar, where he planned to while away the day sipping various long, cool +drinks. And Reggie was always happy when the immediate future held the +prospects of a drink. + +He nodded brightly to a uniformed attendant. + +"Glorious morning, isn't he?" he said. + +"It was a glorious morning," the attendant corrected politely. + +Reggie looked blankly at a clock on the wall and a puzzled frown spread +over his equine features. + +"Well, well," he muttered, shaking his head, "how'd that happen?" He +sauntered on toward the bar, nibbling at a hang nail. The morning had +slipped away from him somehow. Here it was two o'clock in the afternoon +already. It was quite a blow. + +He remembered then that he had slept until twelve thirty and he +brightened considerably. That explained it. Whistling merrily he strode +on into the dim cool bar, with its heavy brown fixtures and solid +atmosphere of masculinity. + +The bartender set up his usual drink and with knowledge born of long +experience, immediately began the preparation of a second. + +Reggie sipped his drink and relaxed. + +For several moments he stood at the bar, lazily contented, his brain +slowed to about one revolution per minute. Finally he happened to glance +toward the end of the bar and he noticed a small, dark, narrow-eyed man +watching him closely. + +Reggie smiled uncertainly and returned to his drink. The dark man at the +end of the bar was the only other customer and Reggie knew that he was +not a member of the club, for he had never seen him before in his life. + +Reggie finished his drink and when the bartender set another before him +he glanced again toward the end of the bar. The little dark man was +still there, regarding him, it seemed, with a steady fixed stare. + +Reggie coughed nervously and gulped his drink. There was something in +the dark little man's beady-eyed gaze that disturbed him. He had another +quick drink and peeked from the corner of his eye at the little dark +man. + +There was something sinister about the chap, he felt sure. Reggie was +the owner of an extremely lurid imagination and now, warmed by the glow +of alcohol, he began to envision all sorts of wild possibilities. + +After his fourth drink he was certain that the man was an Axis agent. +Just why an Axis agent would be staring at him he had no idea, but he +still felt sure the man was a Nazi. + + * * * * * + +Reggie finished his drink and set the glass on the bar. Then he casually +sauntered toward the door. A few paces from the room's only exit, he +paused and under the pretense of inspecting a faded sports print on the +wall, sneaked a quick glance at the dark little man. + +The dark little man was still staring at him with narrowed, shaded eyes. + +Reggie yawned ostentatiously and inched closer to the door. He was going +to make a break for it, but it would have to be fast and clever. His +heart was pounding with more gusto than usual and there were bright +spots of excitement in his pale cheeks. This new role of dodging the +Gestapo appealed enormously to his comic strip sense of melodrama. + +Headlines popped before his mind's eye. + + REGGIE VAN FIDDLER MAKES ESCAPE! + +From what he was going to escape he wasn't quite sure, but he felt that +the details would be in the body of the news story. Headlines didn't +tell everything, did they? + +Within a foot of the door he turned casually and took one last look at +the little man who was staring so intently at him. Then, with a sudden +slithering motion, he slipped through the door. + +He collided heavily with a small figure. + +"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I'm in a bit of a hurry." + +He turned and started away, but he had barely taken three strides when +he jerked to a stop. An expression of dazed amazement stole over his +face and his sleepy eyes opened wide. + +Wheeling suddenly he stared back at the small figure he had collided +with. The man was still standing in the corridor that led from the bar, +regarding Reggie with a fixed, thoughtful expression. + +And he was the same dark little man Reggie had left _inside_ the bar +room seconds before! + +Reggie gulped audibly. His adam's apple bobbed in his throat like a +mouse in a sock. + +_How had the dark little man gotten out of the bar ahead of him?_ + +Reggie didn't know and he had no inclination to wait and ask questions. +With one last incredulous look over his shoulder he wheeled and loped +across the lobby, down the marble steps, through the club's revolving +doors and into the street. + +He walked swiftly, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief. + +The experience had been an unnerving one. When he reached the end of the +block he hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of another bar. + +As the cab rolled across the Loop Reggie settled back and gnawed +nervously at his finger nails. Thoughtful meditation and analysis were +not his strongest suits; in fact any thinking at all was an annoying +chore to him, but he felt now that he had better bend his brain to the +problem of the dark little man whom he'd seen at the club. + +The chap was obviously interested in him, but why? There was no +reasonable answer to that question, and there was no explanation to the +way the little fellow had popped up _outside_ the bar, when Reggie had +seen him, a split-second before, _inside_ the bar. + + * * * * * + +Reggie was still stewing over these matters when the cab came to a stop +before a swanky glitter joint which catered to afternoon revellers and +jitterbugs of both sexes. + +Inside the smoky, dimly lighted den of din and discord Reggie forgot his +troubles long enough to order a drink, his fifth of the afternoon. He +was conscious of a vague buzzing between his ears and there was a +pleasant mellow glow in the region of his solar plexus. + +Had it not been for his disturbing experience at the Midland club, he +would have been feeling very, very fine. + +When his drink arrived he sipped it appreciatively and glanced about the +crowded bar, looking for a familiar face. In one corner of the room he +saw a tall young man in tweeds lounging against the wall with a drink in +his hand. With a glad cry Reggie scrambled from his bar stool and +lurched across the crowded floor, weaving his way with drunken dexterity +through the jitterbugging maniacs. + +"Hi!" he cried, when he reached the tweed-clad young man's side. "How've +you been, Ricky? Have a drink?" + +"Been fine," the young man answered. "Got a drink. Name isn't Ricky." + +"Not Ricky?" Reggie shook his head frowning. "Could've sworn you were +good old Ricky Davis, chap I knew at school. Well, how're things?" + +"Good," the young man answered. "Have a drink?" + +"Got one," Reggie said. "Got to go now. It's been nice seeing you again, +Ricky." + +He started to weave his way back to the bar. Suddenly he stopped, his +eyes focusing in fascination on the figure of a man at the bar. A man +who had appropriated the seat which Reggie had vacated. + +The man was small and dark. His eyes were narrow and inscrutable. He was +the same person Reggie had seen at the club. + +The breath left Reggie's lungs in a rush. + +Obviously the man had followed him here! + +As he stood, transfixed, in the middle of the floor, the man turned and +looked straight at him, a peculiar thoughtful expression on his dark +face. After studying Reggie for a long interval he turned slowly back to +the bar. + +Reggie swallowed what was left of his drink in one gulp, but the liquor +had no effect on him. After the shock he'd received it would take liquid +dynamite to bolster him up. + +He reeled back to the tall young man who was leaning against the wall. + +"Ricky!" he cried hoarsely. "I'm being followed. Axis agents are after +me." + +"Name isn't Ricky," the tall young man said. "Why?" + +"Why what?" Reggie said blankly. He seemed to have fumbled the +conversational ball. He wished the young man would speak with more +clarity and add a few articles and pronouns to his sentences. + +"Why are they following you?" the young man said peevishly. "Nothing +better to do?" + +"That's just it," Reggie said. "I don't know why I'm being followed. But +everywhere I go this little man sticks to me like a postage stamp." + +"Where is he now?" + +Reggie pointed dramatically at the dark little man. + +"At the bar. He took the stool I left. He's right between that fat old +man and that young girl with the red hair." + + * * * * * + +The tweed-clad young man stared in the direction of Reggie's pointing +finger, then he frowned and glanced down at Reggie. + +"Any pink elephants, yet?" + +"I'm not drunk," Reggie said indignantly. "That man has been following +me like a conga partner all afternoon." + +The tall young man patted Reggie patiently on the shoulder. + +"Sleep and rest will make a new man of you," he said. "Go home. Go to +bed. You've got hallucinations." + +"Hallucinations!" Reggie cried over the din of the orchestra. "What do +you mean? Don't you see the man I mean? Right between the fat old man +and the girl with the red hair?" + +The tweedish young man shook his head. + +"The stool between the fat old man and the red-haired girl is completely +unoccupied," he said in the patient voice of a man instructing a very +young child. + +Reggie shook his head bewilderedly. There was a sudden cold hollow in +the pit of his stomach. He opened and closed his mouth several times +without producing a sound. + +"Are you serious?" he finally managed to gasp. + +"Certainly," the young man answered. "There's no one on the bar stool +you left. You're just seeing things. Take my advice and go home. You've +had too much giggle water." + +Reggie set his drink down hastily. For a long deliberate moment he +studied the back of the dark little man at the bar. Then he shook his +head dazedly. Maybe this was all some wild product of his imagination. +Maybe he _was_ having hallucinations.... + +He shook his head again and then he shook hands with the young man in +the tweed suit. + +"I'm going home, Ricky," he said firmly. "Say hello to all the gang for +me." + +"Name isn't Ricky," the young man said, sipping from his drink, "but +I'll tell the boys you were asking." + +"Good," Reggie said. + +He left the crowded bar by a back entrance. The warm sunshine was +pleasant and reassuring. People hurried past him, traffic surged in the +streets, and everything was quite normal. He breathed a deep sigh and +hailed a cab. He gave the driver the address of his apartment and then +settled back against the soft leather cushions. + +Sleep was all he needed. That was all. + + * * * * * + +When he reached his apartment on the near North Side he had succeeded in +convincing himself that his peculiar experiences of the afternoon were +only products of his fevered imagination. + +As he let himself into his apartment he had firmly resolved to strictly +ration his reading of comic strips and spy magazines. They were pretty +strong meat if they weren't handled with discretion. + +The pleasantly furnished living room of his apartment was shrouded in +late-afternoon semi-darkness and, when he closed and locked the door +behind him, he switched on the lights. + +The first thing he saw when he walked into the room was the little dark +man whom he'd seen at the Club and at the bar a few minutes previously. + +The dark little man was sitting in a straight chair, his hands resting +on his knees. There was a faint smile on his face as he studied Reggie +with calm, inscrutable eyes. + +Reggie staggered back a few steps, clapping one hand hysterically to his +forehead. He couldn't believe his eyes. He had left this man at a bar in +the Loop, but here he was now, sitting calmly and unconcernedly in the +living room of his apartment. + +"How did you get in here?" he gasped. + +The dark little man stood up and smiled. + +"Is that important?" he asked softly. "I am here and that is all that +matters." + +Reggie swallowed loudly. There was something disturbing about the calm +ambiguity of the man's statement. He rubbed his damp palms together +nervously. + +"Can I get you a drink?" he blurted. + +The dark little man shook his head slowly. + +Reggie looked at him uneasily, noticing him in detail for the first +time. He was small, hardly more than five feet two and he was slenderly +built. His hair was jet black and it combed straight back from a high, +delicate forehead. He wore severely tailored black clothes that fitted +his small frame without a wrinkle. But his eyes dominated his entire +personality, for they were a cold chilling black, lusterless and +unwinking, as unrevealing as twin diamonds. + +Reggie shivered slightly and looked wistfully toward the door of the +apartment. He coughed nervously. + +"Sorry to seem rude," he said, laughing weakly, "but I've got to be +toddling off now. It's been nice--er--running into you. There are +magazines on the table, liquor in the ice box, so just make yourself at +home." + +He backed cautiously toward the door, smiling nervously. + +"Don't wait up for me," he said. "I've--" + +"Wait," the dark little man said quietly, "I must talk with you." + +"Some other time," Reggie said, feeling behind him for the door knob. +"Awfully rushed just now. Sorry but--" + +"Wait!" the little man said again, but this time his voice cracked like +a whip. "Didn't you hear me? I must talk with you?" + + * * * * * + +Reggie jumped at the cracking tone of the man's voice. His hand jerked +away from the door knob as if it were red hot. + +"Oh, you want to talk to me?" he said foolishly. "I didn't understand +you." + +"My name," the little man said, "is," he paused and smiled cryptically, +"Demise." + +"Glad to know you," Reggie said. "My name is--" + +"I know your name," Mr. Demise said. "I know everything about you, +Reginald Van Fiddler. I know things about you that you don't know +yourself." + +"Do you now?" Reggie said, becoming interested in spite of himself. "For +instance?" + +"I know that you are about to take a long trip," Mr. Demise said. + +"That's not news," Reggie said. "My draft board just classified me 1-A. +I'll be taking a long trip very shortly." + +"That is not the trip I am referring to," Mr. Demise said. "You are +going on a trip with me." + +Reggie blinked. He couldn't think of anyone with whom he would rather +not take a trip than this dark, sinister little man who called himself +Mr. Demise. What did Demise mean, anyway? + +"It's nice of you, and all that," he said, "but I don't think I'll be +able to make it. My draft board might not like it." + +"They will understand," Mr. Demise said. + +"I don't know about that," Reggie said. He was beginning really to +worry. There was something damnably inevitable about Mr. Demise's calm +statements. "They're pretty ticklish about such things. I think we'd +just better forget the whole idea." + +"That is impossible," Mr. Demise said. + +Reggie rubbed his moist palms on his trouser legs. + +"Who are you?" he asked hesitantly. "Have you been following me around +all day just to sell me on the idea of a trip? Are you from Cook's +tours?" + +Mr. Demise smiled and shook his head. + +"I am not interested in selling you the idea of a trip. I am simply +telling you that you are going on a trip. I have already made all the +arrangements. There is nothing that can possibly change them." + +"Where am I going?" Reggie asked. His voice was a whisper. + +"With me," Mr. Demise said. + +"That's no answer," Reggie said, clutching at straws. "Who are you? +Where are you going?" + +Mr. Demise smiled again, very faintly. He walked slowly to the +mantelpiece and plucked a rose from a vase. His hand closed gently over +the flower as he turned to face Reggie. + +"Perhaps this will answer your questions," he said softly. + +He opened his hand and dropped the flower to the floor at Reggie's feet. +Reggie's eyes widened in sheer amazement. + +[Illustration: Reggie looked at the seared rose, and then he knew...!] + +For the soft glowing beauty of the flower was faded forever. It lay on +the floor, a blackened, dead reminder of its former glory. + +"It's dead," he said incredulously. "It withered at the touch of your +hand." + + * * * * * + +Mr. Demise nodded slowly and there was a wistful sadness in his face. + +"All living things die at my touch," he said. "For I am Death!" + +"Death!" Reggie echoed. For an instant he stared blankly at Mr. Demise. +"Death!" he repeated. "Why that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever +heard." He actually felt a sensation of relief in the realization that +he'd been entertaining some loony instead of an Axis agent as he'd +feared. "You're off your trolley," he said to Mr. Demise. "You'd better +get moving before your keeper finds you. Death! What a gag!" + +"I assure you it is not a gag," Mr. Demise said slowly. "Your time is +near at hand and I have been sent to take you to the land of Darkness." + +"Think again, chum," Reggie said emphatically. "I'm not going to Harlem +with you or anyone else and that's final." + +"It is useless to protest," Mr. Demise said. "Your destiny is sealed. +You must come with me." + +"You are plain balmy," Reggie said. "I've never heard a sillier yarn in +my life. So you're Death, are you?" + +Mr. Demise nodded. "I am one of his agents." + +"Changing your story a little, aren't you?" Reggie said triumphantly. +"Well, since when has Death been announced by personal messengers? A man +steps in front of a car. He's killed. That's all there is to it. There +aren't little black men standing on the curb pushing him into the +street, are there? And they don't come around a couple of hours in +advance tipping him off, do they? No!" + +"When a mortal passes over," Mr. Demise said, "there is always an agent +of Death present superintending the details. But he is not always +visible to his charge." + +Reggie poured himself a drink and lit a cigarette. + +"Well, thanks just the same," he said, "but I don't want any special +effects when I pass over. If there's a messenger of Death around I don't +_want_ to see him. Just let him stay invisible. That's the way I want +it." + +Mr. Demise looked slightly pained. There was an embarrassed look on his +normally expressionless features. + +"Usually the agent of Death is invisible," he said. "In fact his orders +are to remain invisible under all circumstances." + +"Okay then," Reggie said. "You're breaking orders. Be a nice obedient +chum now and fade away." + +Mr. Demise shrugged and stepped backward--_and suddenly he was gone_! He +had disappeared into thin air, soundlessly, instantaneously. + +"Why what?" Reggie said blandly. He started to sip his drink when +suddenly the full realization of what had happened burst on him. The +drink fell from his nerveless fingers with a crash. + +He stared frantically about the room. + +_Mr. Demise was gone!_ It was incredible! It was unbelievable! But it +was a fact! + +He poured himself another drink and drained it in one breathless gulp. +He felt his reason tottering as his gaze swung desperately about the +room. + +"Mr. Demise!" he cried. "Come back! Where are you!" + +"I am here before you," Mr. Demise's voice sounded in the air. "Are you +convinced now?" + +Reggie mopped his forehead weakly. + +"Yes," he gasped. "I'm convinced." + + * * * * * + +Mr. Demise reappeared as suddenly as he had vanished. He smiled faintly +at Reggie. He was apparently completely unruffled by his transformation. + +Reggie poured himself another drink with trembling fingers. + +"D-don't do that any more," he pleaded. + +"As you wish," Mr. Demise said agreeably. "I am sorry if I shocked you. +I can see now that it was a mistake to let you see me in the first +place. I understand now why it is strictly forbidden." + +Reggie drained his drink. + +"I wish you hadn't decided to break regulations," he said moodily. "I've +never been so upset in all my life. Why didn't you remain invisible, if +you're supposed to? You aren't going to creep into people's hearts if +you pop up and announce yourself as an agent of Death and start making +speeches about whisking them off to the Land of Darkness. People just +don't like that sort of thing. By all means stay invisible in the +future." + +Mr. Demise shuffled awkwardly and for the first time his poise seemed +deserting him. + +"You're absolutely right," he said gloomily. "But I was curious." + +"That's a fine excuse," Reggie said scathingly. "I should think they'd +get a man of tact and diplomacy for your job. Not some nosy person whose +curiosity runs away with him." + +"You see," Mr. Demise explained miserably, "you happened to be my first +assignment. I've had no experience at all in this work and I was curious +to see what kind of person I was going to take back with me. And I +wanted to get a first-hand reaction from you." + +Reggie mixed himself another drink. He was beginning to feel +belligerent. + +"So?" he cried. "They sent an amateur down to get me, did they? I +suppose I don't rate an experienced escort. So they sent you. I'm +surprised they didn't just tell the office boy to do the job." + +"Your levity is poor taste," Mr. Demise observed frigidly. "I can assure +you that I am perfectly qualified to act as your guide to the Other +World. I have studied hard to perfect myself for my work and I was +considered one of the outstanding pupils in the class which just +graduated. You do not have to relieve your spite by making slighting +references to my professional ability." + +"Bah!" Reggie said. "If you have any professional ability it hasn't been +noticeable so far. You're just out of some college, aren't you? You talk +like a college boy. You don't make sense." + +Mr. Demise looked hurt. + +"I'm sorry you're taking this attitude," he said. "I had hoped we could +be friends." + +"Friends!" Reggie shrieked. "Am I expected to be friendly with some +ghoul who comes prowling around threatening to whisk me off to Eternity? +What more do they expect of me? To pay my own way too, I suppose." + +"Your passage will be taken care of at the other end," Mr. Demise said. +"Since you have taken such an ungracious stand we will not dally +further." + + * * * * * + +"Now wait a minute," Reggie said. He felt his throat getting dry. The +prospects of Death were not pleasant. He didn't want to die right now. +He had things to do. There was that badminton match next week with +Snuffy Smith.... + +"Can't we put this thing off a while?" he asked hopefully. "There's no +sense in rushing things, I always say. Why don't you go off and get +yourself a lot of experience and then come back for me?" + +"That is impossible," Mr. Demise said flatly. He drew from his inside +coat pocket a slim black book which he opened to the first page. "You +are first on my list and I must carry out my orders to the letter. All +the information as to person, place and method is contained in this book +and it would be impossible to change it." + +"Place and method, eh?" Reggie said weakly. He ran a finger around the +inside of his collar. "You mean you've got the dope there on how it's +going to happen and when it's going to happen?" + +"Certainly," Mr. Demise replied. "We don't use a hit-or-miss method. +Everything is worked out to a science. You, for instance, are--" Mr. +Demise paused and shook his head. "No," he continued, "I can't tell you. +That is also against instructions." + +"You haven't paid much attention to instructions so far," Reggie said +sulkily. "Can't you give me a hint as to how I'm going to get it?" + +Mr. Demise shook his head firmly. + +"That would be an unthinkable breach of conduct," he said, shaking his +head severely and frowning. "Absolutely unthinkable." + +"All right," Reggie said resignedly. There was no point, he realized, in +arguing with this inhuman icicle. "But let's have a drink before we get +down to--er--business." + +"I am not allowed to drink while on duty," Mr. Demise said primly. + +"For gosh sakes," Reggie said disgustedly, "you weren't thinking about +your precious orders and regulations when you followed me around, +scaring the hell out of me. Oh no! That was all right. But when I ask +you to do a little something outside the letter of your instructions +it's no soap. If there's anything fair in that I can't see it." + +Mr. Demise shuffled uncomfortably. + +"It was indiscreet of me to allow you to see me," he said thoughtfully. +"Perhaps your objection is justifiable. It might square things a bit if +I would take a drink with you. Not that I would expect to enjoy the +stuff but it seems the fair thing to do." + +"Fine," Reggie said. + +He mixed two drinks in somber silence. Because he realized that it was +probably the last time he would ever perform that pleasant chore, he put +his heart and soul into the task and when he finally handed Mr. Demise +his drink it was a veritable masterpiece. + +Mr. Demise drank the drink--it was a double Martini with a splash of +Quantro--in one long appreciative gulp. He set the glass down and sighed +contentedly. + +"Another?" Reggie suggested hopefully. + +"No," Mr. Demise said, "one is plenty. As a matter of fact," he said, +"that's the first drink I ever had. Alcohol is one of our finest helpers +but we aren't supposed to touch it. Personally I think its intoxicating +effect is greatly overrated." + + * * * * * + +Reggie leaned forward and there was a peculiar gleam in his eyes. + +"So that was your first drink, eh?" he asked. "And you don't feel +anything?" + +"Not a thing," said Mr. Demise. "Of course I notice a certain glow, but +that's all." + +"Just a certain glow, eh?" Reggie said. + +"Thash all," Mr. Demise said. He sat down suddenly. "And my tongue ish a +lil' thick." + +"Well, that's only natural," Reggie said. He mixed another drink and +there was a cryptic smile on his lips. "Alcohol is a peculiar thing. One +drink will addle a person's wits and the second will act as an antidote. +Strange, isn't it?" + +Mr. Demise rocked slightly in the chair. His coal-black eyes were a bit +glazed. "Ish very strange," he conceded. + +"Possibly you'd like to try the antidote?" Reggie said casually. + +"Might not be a bad idea," said Mr. Demise. + +Reggie handed him the second drink and watched contentedly as Mr. Demise +drank it down. Mr. Demise set down the glass. + +"You wush right," he said, slumping against the back of the chair. +"Absolutely right. Second drink ish an antidote. Jush what I needed." + +"Absolutely," Reggie agreed solemnly. + +Mr. Demise closed his eyes but he opened them almost immediately. He +struggled up to a sitting position. + +"I hash something to do," he muttered. His hand groped into the inside +of his coat, returned with the slim black book. "Very important," he +mumbled. "First assignment. Can't have any slip ups." + +Reggie moistened his lips nervously. He eyed the little black book +carefully. That might be the way.... + +"How about another drink, old boy," he said heartily. He mixed one +quickly, handed it to Mr. Demise. Mr. Demise took it in his left hand +and Reggie deftly plucked the black book from his right hand. Mr. Demise +appeared not to notice the exchange. He drank the drink methodically. + +Reggie tossed the book under a coffee table. + +Mr. Demise climbed unsteadily to his feet. + +Reggie took him by the arm. "What say we go out and have a few quick +antidotes?" he suggested. + +Mr. Demise nodded stupidly. He mumbled something unintelligible and +allowed Reggie to lead him to the door. Reggie's brain was working at +full speed. If he could just ditch Mr. Demise and get back to the book +everything might be saved. His idea was sheer brilliance.... + + * * * * * + +Their first destination was a bar. Reggie found a cab, shoved Mr. Demise +inside and ordered the driver to one of the dozens of friendly bars with +which he was familiar. + +At the first stop Mr. Demise had two more drinks. When he had drained +the second Reggie hauled him to his feet and started for another palate +palace. His object was to keep Mr. Demise so bewildered and drunk that +he would forget his job. + +For a while he succeeded. Mr. Demise followed him helplessly from bar to +bar and sat tottering on high stools happily pouring fiery intoxicants +into his already overburdened stomach. + +But finally he reached the state of saturation where the liquor produced +a steadily diminishing effect. Reggie watched him worriedly and ordered +more and more drinks. + +But it was no use. + +In spite of the enormous quantities of liquor he had consumed, Mr. +Demise was slowly sobering up. His face was losing its blank expression +and an intelligent gleam was creeping back into his eyes. + +He began to fumble uncertainly through his pockets, a worried expression +settling over his features. + +Reggie slapped him on the back resoundingly. + +"Have a drink!" he shouted into his ear. + +Mr. Demise shook his head stubbornly. + +"Got a job to do," he muttered. He went slowly through his pockets and +an expression of horror replaced the worried look on his face. + +"Where's my book?" he gasped. "I've lost my book! This is terrible. I've +got to find it!" + +"What book?" Reggie asked innocently. + +"The book with all the names and places and dates and methods," Mr. +Demise moaned. "I've lost it." + +Reggie shrugged philosophically. + +"Too bad," he said. "But things are never as black as they seem. Maybe +it'll turn up somewhere. The thing to do is just sit tight until someone +finds it and reports it." + +"I can't wait," wailed Mr. Demise. "These things have to happen on +schedule. There'd be an awful rumpus in the complaint department if I +started sending people up there haphazardly. And I don't even remember +whom I've got on the list. You're the only one I'm sure of." + +Reggie choked on his drink. + +"Yes," Mr. Demise went on obliviously, "you're the first. I'm sure of +that much. And I'd better send you along right away. I'll do that much +correctly, at least." + +"Now, just a minute," Reggie said, "how're you sure you've got me right? +I looked at that book and I don't think I'm the man you want at all." + +"You looked at the book!" cried Mr. Demise with sudden suspicion. "So +that's where it went. That's why you got me drunk. You stole my book, +hoping to evade your destiny, didn't you?" + +"Nothing of the sort," Reggie said, forcing a note of outraged +indignation into his voice. + +"Yes you did," Mr. Demise said. "I'm not going to wait a second longer +in your case. Mr. Fiddler, prepare yourself for a long trip and don't +plan on coming back." + + * * * * * + +Reggie realized that the jig was up. Mr. Demise had a grim business-like +note in his voice and there was no hope of prolonging things further. +Drastic action was needed, not discussion. + +With a leap like a startled gazelle Reggie left his stool and bounded +for the door. Before Mr. Demise could turn around, he was in the street, +shouting frantically for a cab. + +A cab pulled to the curb and Reggie leaped into its dark interior. Over +his shoulder he saw Mr. Demise stagger from the bar, a wrathful +expression stamped on his dark features. + +The cab started away with a roar. Reggie shouted his address at the +driver and squirmed about to peek out the rear window. + +He saw Mr. Demise clambering into another cab. + +"Hurry!" he shouted to his driver. + +"Life or death, eh?" the cabby said conversationally. + +Reggie winced. "You said it." + +The cab caromed around corners, hit the Outer Drive and hurled along +like a frightened cotton-tail until it reached the near North side, +where it swung west and sped through the labyrinthine streets that led +to Reggie's apartment. + +From the rear window Reggie could see Mr. Demise's cab speeding after +them, steadily closing the gap. His palms were moist and the effects of +the liquor had completely faded, leaving him horribly sober. There was +nothing funny about this predicament. + +His cab jolted to a stop and Reggie threw a bill at the driver and +leaped out and raced into the foyer of his building. + +By a miraculous stroke of luck the elevator was not in use. He slammed +the door and jabbed the button and the car started upward with a jerk. +He breathed a long shuddering sigh of relief. Maybe there would yet be +time.... + +The elevator stopped at his floor. Just as he opened the door and +stepped out, the elevator suddenly dropped back down the shaft. One of +his legs dangled down the shaft. With a startled squawk he pulled +himself onto the floor landing. + +Mr. Demise obviously meant business. If he'd been in that elevator +everything would be all over now. As it was he still had a chance. + +He let himself into his apartment, switched on the light and dove +underneath the coffee table. The black book of doom was still there. +Frantically Reggie opened it to the first page, found his own name. + +He jerked a pencil from his pocket.... + +He was still scribbling furiously when the door of the apartment banged +open and Mr. Demise strode into the room, his face black as a +thundercloud. + +Reggie dropped the pencil and hid the book from view with his body. + +"So!" Mr. Demise cried. "You would try to escape?" + +He raised both hands commandingly in the air. + +Before he could move again Reggie wheeled about. + +"Just a minute," he shrieked. He held out the slim black book to Mr. +Demise. "I was sure a mistake had been made. Here! Look for yourself." + +"I want no more of your tricks," Mr. Demise warned ominously. + +"This is no trick," Reggie said. "You should be grateful to me for +catching the error in time." + + * * * * * + +Mr. Demise took the book from Reggie and examined it carefully. The +frown gradually faded from his face as his eyes lingered on the page. He +shuffled his feet awkwardly and cleared his throat. + +"It seems," he said in a small, chastened voice, "that a mistake has +been made." + +Reggie's heart pounded with hope. + +"It certainly has," he said. "This entire affair should be reported to +someone. That's what happens when you put inexperienced men on the job. +You wind up with a bungled mess." + +"I don't know how it happened," Mr. Demise said miserably. "All I can +say is I'm sorry." + +"Fine thing," Reggie said stuffily. "Mess up your job like this and then +say you're sorry. I'd advise, Demise, that you lay off the liquor when +you're supposed to be working." + +"I will in the future," Mr. Demise said humbly. + +"See that you do," Reggie said sternly. "Now I'd say you'd better get to +work on that first assignment." + +"Yes, I will," Mr. Demise said. With drooping shoulders he moved slowly +to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned again to Reggie. + +"I hate to be a pest," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't know how to go +about this job. Maybe you could help me. Where can I find this fellow?" + +Reggie chuckled and began to mix himself a drink. + +"I'd advise you to try Berchtesgaden," he said. "Just ask anyone you +meet. They'll tell you where you can find Adolf Hitler." + +"Thank you," Mr. Demise said gratefully. "I won't slip up on this one." + +"See that you don't," Reggie said. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Death Makes A Mistake, by P.F. 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