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diff --git a/36719-h/36719-h.htm b/36719-h/36719-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f40d0c --- /dev/null +++ b/36719-h/36719-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1863 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Scapegoat, by Richard Maples. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .extraspacetop {padding-top: 2em; } + .extraspacebot {padding-bottom: 2em; } + .blockquote {margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Scapegoat, by Richard Maples + +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: The Scapegoat + +Author: Richard Maples + +Release Date: July 13, 2011 [EBook #36719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SCAPEGOAT *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover_1.jpg" width="400" height="537" alt="Cover" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Cover</span> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1>THE SCAPEGOAT</h1> + +<h2>By RICHARD MAPLES</h2> + +<div class="center blockquote"><i>Who would not have pity for +a poor, helpless victim? Nobody +—except another poor victim!</i></div> +<div class="center extraspacetop extraspacebot">Illustrated by WEISS</div> + + +<div class="cap">THE OLD GUY didn't have +a chance. All he could do +was shield his head with +limp arms and moan, while this +other fellow—a young, husky +six-footer—gave him a vicious, +cold-blooded beating.</div> + +<p>"Hey, there!" I yelled indignantly. +"Cut it out!"</p> + +<p>But the kid kept belting away, +as if he were methodically working +out on a fifty-pound training +bag. Finally, the old man sagged +to the pavement. Then this hoodlum +began to kick him.</p> + +<p>I'm not a hero. I'm a newspaper +man whose job it is to look +at things objectively. But I know +right from wrong.</p> + +<p>My one punch caught the +young bruiser back of the ear +and spilled him on the ground. +He lay there for a moment, then +rolled over. Even by the street +light, it was easy to see his eyes +were glassy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>It gave me lots of satisfaction. +I'm not a big man—just compact—but +I take care of myself. +I don't drink or smoke and I +exercise regularly. The result is +I can handle myself in the +clinches.</p> + +<p>The kid sat up and pushed +himself unsteadily to his feet. I +could see now that he was a college +boy. The red sweater with +the terrycloth border and the +white pants with a shortened +left leg were a dead giveaway.</p> + +<p>"Listen here," I said roughly, +"you nuts? Beating up an old +man!"</p> + +<p>He appeared to be desperately +searching for an explanation—something +to say. Then, abruptly, +without having uttered a sound, +he reeled away and shambled +hurriedly down the street.</p> + +<p>My first inclination was to +give chase. But the old man +groaned and I turned to help +him. That was when I had it—a +virtual brain storm.</p> + +<p>This whole episode, I could +see, was a perfect answer to the +damnable criticisms leveled at +my series on juvenile delinquency. +More than that, it was +an absolute vindication!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">BARELY AN hour ago, I'd had +to sit at a meeting and take +it on the chin from twenty of +the town's leading lights who +designated themselves The Committee +for the Protection of +Youth. The outfit was, of course, +politically inspired. It had obviously +been started by the Mayor +and his gang as a means of torpedoing +Jones, the publisher of +my paper. Jones, you see, had +become politically ambitious himself.</div> + +<p>Since I was the star on Jones' +team, they piled on me. Some of +the nicer things said about my +articles were that they constituted +filthy muckraking, were a +pattern of irresponsible lies, and +were designed principally to +smear the incumbent politicos. +The children of the town, they +cried, were being sacrificed to +ruthless ambition.</p> + +<p>It wouldn't have been so bad +if Jones had stuck by me. But he +cut and ran. Discretion, he had +whispered to me from behind a +pudgy hand, was the better part +of valor. Then he told them he +would discontinue the articles.</p> + +<p>Now I had first-hand proof of +a particularly brutal bit of delinquency. +A cruel assault on a poor, +helpless old man! Furthermore, +I was the hero of the incident!</p> + +<p>Bending down to see how seriously +the old man had been hurt, +I asked, "What happened, Pop? +Was he trying to rob you or +something?" He didn't answer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/png03_1.jpg" width="400" height="565" alt="" title="" /></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> + +I looked around for help, but +the street was deserted. The best +thing, I decided, was to take him +home. There Nan, my wife, could +patch him up while I found out +what had happened. I bent down +again and pulled him to his feet. +He staggered. I put one steadying +hand on his shoulder and +gripped his wrist with the other. +My spine went cold.</p> + +<p>It was his flesh. Not so much +that it felt like rubber—but the +chill. Here we were in the middle +of a heat wave, the thermometer +nudging ninety, and the old guy's +wrist is like an icicle!</p> + +<p>For a second, it threw me. +Then I thought of shock. That +might explain it. And Nan, having +been a nurse, would be the one +to know.</p> + +<p>I started the old man walking. +"See if you can make it to my +house," I urged. "It's just around +the corner."</p> + +<p>Nan switched on the porch +light when she heard us on the +steps. Opening the door, she drew +back with a little shriek. The old +man was pretty gruesome-looking +at that. But it wasn't just his +blood-covered face and matted +white beard.</p> + +<p>There was something spiderish +about him. He was angular, and +dark, and skeletal. His eyes, deep-set +and brooding, seemed to +crouch under his shaggy, jutting +brows.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy, honey," I said. +"The old guy just needs some +patching up."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">SHE RECOVERED quickly +and helped him into the +house. After we'd eased him into +the easy chair by the fireplace +in the living room, she turned +to me, worried. "Were you in an +accident?"</div> + +<p>I gave her the story and she +looked at me sharply, but didn't +speak. She went into the bedroom +and came back with blankets +and medicine bottles. Tucking +the blankets around the old +man's legs, she said, "But I don't +understand why you were walking. +You went to the meeting in +Jones' car. Why didn't he bring +you back?"</p> + +<p>I didn't answer. The old man +had closed his eyes and his +breathing was becoming very +shallow. "Look at him," I said. +"Is he all right?"</p> + +<p>"He's sleeping. Why don't you +answer my question?"</p> + +<p>"Jones didn't bring me home +because I had words with him +and walked away in a huff."</p> + +<p>"Over the meeting?"</p> + +<p>"Partly." I explained about the +meeting and how Jones had back-tracked +when the going got rough. +"After all, it was his idea to build +circulation with sensational articles +and to use them to attack +the present administration. But +when there's a showdown, he acts +like a scared rabbit. And that's +what I told him."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad," Nan said, her face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +brightening. "What did he say to +that?"</p> + +<p>"He gave me a lot of bull about +it being a mistake to pick on people's +children and how we should +stick to old standbys like red-light +districts and dope trafficking."</p> + +<p>Nan slapped the iodine on the +table. "Some nerve! What did +you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"I told him he was jerking the +rug from under me and that I'd +be damned if I'd write a bunch +of warmed-over tripe. Then I +walked away."</p> + +<p>"You finally quit!"</p> + +<p>Until then, I don't think I'd +ever realized just how much Nan +hated my work. Of course, off +and on, we'd really had some +knock-down drag-outs, but I'd +never considered them serious. +Oh, we often talked about my +going into teaching physical ed. +It had been my intention ever +since college. Some day I'd actually +do it.</p> + +<p>I shook my head. "No, honey, +I didn't quit."</p> + +<p>"But you're going to?"</p> + +<p>I shrugged in a gesture of helplessness. +"How can I? An unprovoked +attack against a poor old +man is dynamite. It puts me in +the driver's seat. I can write an +article that will make every +mealy-mouthed hypocrite who +spoke against me tonight eat his +words."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">THE FIRE in her eyes died. +"It's always something," she +said wearily. "Year after year, +you've come up with one reason +or another to stay in the rotten +business. And what does it +amount to? Mud-slinging! I'm beginning +to think you like it!"</div> + +<p>She'd never come out so bluntly +and, deep down, I felt my resentment +pressing like the sharp +edge of a coiled spring. Originally, +getting into the newspaper +game had been a sort of fluke. +Majoring in physical ed at college, +I often covered the various +sports events for the campus +paper. One day, a big-time scandal +broke, involving gamblers +and one of the teams, and I +found myself in a perfect spot +to do an exclusive for a city +paper. My stuff was run verbatim +under a by-line and afterward +picked up by the wire services.</p> + +<p>Later, with a trick knee keeping +me out of the war, I managed +to talk myself into a job with +the newspaper that had run my +expose. I was goaded by a feeling +that I ought to be doing something +bigger than teaching children +how to play games.</p> + +<p>From the very start, I discovered +I had a peculiar talent. If +I found myself anywhere near a +skeleton in a closet, I could plainly +hear its rattle. Before long, +my reputation was firmly established.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nan, whom I'd met at college, +knew of my ambition to teach +and began planning toward that +end as soon as we married. She +started what she called a quitting +fund. This was to stake a move +to a small town where her uncle +was principal of the high school. +He was supposed to help me get +a foothold in the new career.</p> + +<p>But then Tommy was born and +there were bills to pay. After that +there were other reasons, like car +payments. By the end of the war, +the teaching plans were no longer +discussed, and Nan and I had +drawn so far apart that even the +bickering between us had ceased.</p> + +<p>Finally, when Tommy was +about ten, she suddenly let me +have it.</p> + +<p>It seems the kid was running +around with a tough crowd. She +wanted to get him away from the +city. He needed the fresh air and +the decent, normal home-life of +a small town, she said. And she +meant every word of it.</p> + +<p>Luckily, Jones had come along +right about then and offered me +a job on his newspaper, back in +the old home town. He had an +idea he could drive the opposition +paper out of business by featuring +yellow journalism at the local +level. That's where I came in. +With my ability to make the +news bleed, he figured he could +cinch it. For that reason, he was +willing to double my present salary. +So I accepted.</p> + +<p>Nan, of course, was furious, +even though I pointed out the +extra dough meant we could start +planning again. She didn't calm +down until I promised to quit the +job after six months.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">YES, IT WAS always something. +She was right enough +about that. But she had no right +to make such an issue of things. +I started to tell her that, then +stopped. Maybe she was picking +a quarrel to make me forget +about the old man and the story. +I threw a fast block into my resentment.</div> + +<p>"Honey," I said, "don't be unreasonable. +Remember this job +with Jones was supposed to get +Tommy away from the city, and +the extra dough was all part of +that big plan for the teaching +business."</p> + +<p>"What plan?" she flared. +"There never was a plan except +to pamper your vanity! Big-shot +Potter, the whiz-bang newspaperman! +That's all you've ever been +interested in!"</p> + +<p>I had to take a deep breath +to keep from yelling back at her. +"You're not being very fair about +this. I did it all with you and +Tommy in mind."</p> + +<p>Her voice lowered. "Is that so? +Well, how about the promise to +quit in six months? We've saved +the money. What marvelous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +thing do you have in mind for +me and Tommy now?"</p> + +<p>That <i>hurt</i>. As a matter of fact, +I'd been quite enjoying the stint +with Jones. My series on juvenile +delinquency had just about +doubled circulation and that gave +me a deep sense of accomplishment. +Then, too, writing the stuff +against the Mayor and the rest +of the town's big-wigs—in keeping +with Jones' political ambitions—nurtured +a feeling of +power that was very satisfying.</p> + +<p>Frankly, the meeting earlier +that evening had set me down +harder than I cared to admit. +Now, with every chance for a +comeback, Nan wanted me to +pass!</p> + +<p>"Listen," I snarled, "so it's hot. +So don't take it out on me!"</p> + +<p>Her fists bunched and the color +drained from her face. Knowing +the signs, I could tell this was +going to be a lulu.</p> + +<p>But the door flew open and +Tommy came clomping through +the hallway and into the front +room. He's a big kid for his age, +mentally and physically. He +spotted the old man right away.</p> + +<p>"Gol<i>lee</i>!" he breathed excitedly. +"Who's the creep?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," Nan said, quickly +recovering her composure. +"He's had an accident. Just get +some money from your father +and go to the drugstore for more +bandages. I'll need them."</p> + +<p>I gave him a buck and he ran +out the kitchen way, slamming +the back door so hard, the whole +house shook.</p> + +<p>The old man's eyes flickered +open. He looked at me first, then +at Nan. "Well," he said in a +peculiar muffled tone that suggested +he was speaking through +an obstruction like a fencing +mask, "isn't this cozy!"</p> + +<p>I immediately threw a lot of +questions at him. His name, he +said, was Ashe—just plain Ashe. +He couldn't remember any other +name. He couldn't remember +why he'd been beaten up, nor +what had led up to it. He was +very confused. He thought maybe +it would all come back to him +later. However, he did remember +my rescuing him and he appreciated +that very much. Hearing +him say so gave me a nice, tingling +glow. I invited him to stay +for dinner and he accepted.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">NAN objected. "There's only +salad," she wailed. "It was +too hot to cook."</div> + +<p>"Salad's fine," I told her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ted, please!"</p> + +<p>"Listen here," I said coldly, +"I've invited Ashe to stay and +he's accepted. Why all the fuss?"</p> + +<p>She gave me a hurt look, +turned, flounced into the kitchen. +I started to follow, thinking I'd +made a mistake in being so +brusque. Then I thought, the heck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +with it. Let her take it any way +she wanted.</p> + +<p>Sweat was plastering my shirt +and pants to me like a skindiver's +outfit. I needed a shower. I told +Ashe to rest easy and went into +the bathroom.</p> + +<p>When I came out, Tommy had +returned. He and the old man +were busily gabbing. Nan, standing +by the kitchen door, frantically +signaled me to join her. In +the kitchen, she backed me +against the sink. "Get him out +of here!"</p> + +<p>"Why?" I asked, startled.</p> + +<p>"There's something wrong with +him."</p> + +<p>"Wrong?"</p> + +<p>"He gives me the willies."</p> + +<p>"It's just the heat," I scoffed.</p> + +<p>"If you must know, he—he +leered at me! While you were in +the shower. It was awful!"</p> + +<p>"Nan, do you think that kind +of yarn is going to stop me from +writing about what happened tonight? +It won't. And you can +make up your mind I'm keeping +the job. When I get through with +the people in this town, they'll +know they've been dealing with +Edward Potter!"</p> + +<p>Tight-lipped, she went to the +refrigerator for the supper.</p> + +<p>As soon as we'd sat down, Ashe +began to talk. He kept it up +through the entire meal. He'd +been everywhere and done everything, +to hear him tell it. Tommy, +listening bug-eyed, kept asking +questions. It sort of got me. The +hero of the affair, to my own son, +was Ashe!</p> + +<p>It was Nan who finally blew +the whistle.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ashe," she said, her voice +honed to a razor-edge, "I'm sure +Ted would be much more interested +in knowing what led up to +the fight tonight—or are you +still confused?"</p> + +<p>There was a beat of three +while he studied Nan carefully. +Then he said, "It's quite apparent, +Mrs. Potter, that you've absolutely +no use for me. This shows discernment. +Most likely, with a +woman's instinct, you've hit upon +at least part of the truth. Because +of that, it might be wise to lay +all my cards on the table. But I +warn you, it will be hard to believe."</p> + +<p>"That," said Nan, leaning back +with a gleam of triumph in her +eyes, "I'll bet on!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">IT WAS hard to believe, all +right. So hard, in fact, that I +thought he was just pulling Nan's +leg.</div> + +<p>He said he'd come from another +world, outside our solar +system, where people existed in +a kind of liquid state, bouncing +about, for the most part, like +large water-filled bladders. They +were, however, capable of taking +almost any shape their superior<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +minds willed. They could flatten +and drift about in the water, or +they could inflate and rise in the +air. They could even become facsimiles +of other living things, taking +on the shape, texture and +coloration, a capability which +aided greatly in their main function +of traveling as missionaries +of goodness amongst the peoples +of the Galaxy. For they were perfect—as +perfect as angels.</p> + +<p>As he talked, Nan's face got +redder and redder. Finally, when +I couldn't keep from snickering, +she jumped up, grabbed her +empty plate and headed for the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Don't rush off, honey," I said +innocently.</p> + +<p>She stopped at the kitchen +door and glared at me. "I guess +I know when I'm being kidded!"</p> + +<p>"But," said Ashe in his cold, +dry purr, "I'm not kidding."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me the joke had +gone far enough. "Don't tell me," +I said sarcastically, "that you're +a missionary to Earth!"</p> + +<p>"No," he admitted. "I'm here +because I was banished."</p> + +<p>"Oh. A sort of fallen angel!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>Another chill scurried along +my spine. It was his tone of voice +more than anything. But then, +too, his eyes had a dull, black +humorlessness about them.</p> + +<p>Nan returned to the table and +sat down. I noticed a band of +perspiration mustaching her upper +lip. Indeed, I seemed to have +grown much hotter myself.</p> + +<p>Irritably, I said, "Ashe, it's too +damn warm for games. If you +don't want to explain what happened +this evening, that's your +privilege. But, as you know, the +story means a lot to me. And I +did stick my neck out for you!"</p> + +<p>He held up a gnarled hand. +"One moment, my boy. Let me +finish."</p> + +<p>So he finished. And the rest of +the story was even nuttier.</p> + +<p>He was a throwback, he said +with quiet pride. The perfection +which had taken his people countless +years to attain was wiped +out the moment he came into +being. They'd tried to reform him, +but there was something fundamental +about his evil—as if it +were an essence.</p> + +<p>As a last resort, they'd put +him into one of their wonderful +machines and thrown the switch. +At that agonizing instant, he'd +imagined himself to be water +scraping over the edge of a sharp +rock. Then he'd come to, drifting +through space. And, much later, +he'd touched Earth. Once landed, +he'd taken on many shapes, +through the years—mainly, +however, of people who'd died.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">EVEN AS HE talked, I was +carefully sliding my chair +back. If I could reach the phone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +in the hallway without being noticed, +it would be fairly simple +to get help. But he saw what I +was doing and laughed.</div> + +<p>"Edward," he said, "I know +you don't believe me, but stick +around until I prove it."</p> + +<p>What happened next almost +made me sick to my stomach. +His face, which had been as +wrinkled as a fielder's mitt, all +of a sudden took on the appearance +of a disturbed reflection in +a pool of water. His flesh began +to writhe like a tangled mass of +earthworms. Thirty seconds after +it began, he'd sloughed off thirty +years. Even his beard, which had +been as white as shower-room +tiling, became a fierce, dead black.</p> + +<p>I heard Tommy pipe, "Gol<i>lee</i>!" +and Nan sigh—only it +sounded more like a groan. I +shook away the dazed feeling and +it was immediately replaced by +a great excitement.</p> + +<p>"Listen here," I said hoarsely, +"this story will set the whole +country on its ear. With my by-line +on it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ted," Nan cried, "don't +let him take you in! It's a trick. +It's—it's mass hypnotism or +something."</p> + +<p>"The trouble with you," I said, +"is you don't believe even what +you see with your own eyes!"</p> + +<p>The next day, I went to see +Jones. We'd decided—Ashe and +I—upon a course of action. The +existence of Ashe was to remain +a secret, but I was to keep my job +with the paper at all costs. Then +we could sit back and wait for +the opportune moment to spill it, +a time when we had the best +angle and were positive Ashe +wouldn't be labeled a hoax.</p> + +<p>Driving to the plant, I was +tense enough to snap. It was not +entirely from the unabated heat, +either. I didn't like the way Ashe +had acted during the latter part +of the evening.</p> + +<p>Naturally I had felt disappointment +at not being able to reveal +his presence. But what rankled +most was the guy's colossal gall. +Okay, so I'm childish, only I just +don't like to have someone gobble +up my share of the dessert.</p> + +<p>He'd also borrowed all the cash +in the house and then demanded +I draw on my bank account. I +quickly discouraged that. But the +topper was his forcing Nan and +me to sleep on the couch while +he used the bed. He said his +bruises still hurt, even though +they weren't visible.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">MY MOOD didn't improve +when Jones kept me waiting +for over an hour. Surprisingly +enough, he was in good spirits. +As I entered the office, he indicated +one of the leather chairs +and said with a laugh, "Sit down, +Ted. I've got some good news."</div> + +<p>My opinion of him the previous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +evening obviously hadn't +been taken very much to heart. +Sourly, I told him, "As a publisher, +you should know that good +news is no news."</p> + +<p>The smile left his face. Then, +with a visible effort, he forced it +back. "You have something there, +Ted. You certainly have. But +point of view is important, also. +You see, they've arrested a gang +of kids for shoplifting. One of +them is Tommy, your son."</p> + +<p>I jumped up. "Arrested Tommy!"</p> + +<p>"Now wait, Ted. Don't go off +half-cocked. It's a break. Don't +you see? You can cover delinquency +with the lid off now. +You'll be writing as a parent in +the same boat with other +parents...."</p> + +<p>I could still hear his frantic +noises after I'd slammed the door +behind me and run the length of +the corridor.</p> + +<p>At the police station, I had the +distinct feeling they'd been waiting +for me. I knew most of them, +especially the big red-headed guy +who beckoned me into a rear +office. His name was Thompson—Detective +Emanuel Thompson. +He always looked as if he +wore a football uniform under +his dark blue suit. My articles +had roasted him plenty. He +handled juvenile delinquency +cases.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Potter," he greeted +me, smiling tightly, "we meet under +unfortunate circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Can the phony sympathy," I +said. "You're not the type. Just +let me see my boy."</p> + +<p>He used a red-and-blue handkerchief +to wipe the dampness +from his beefy neck. "I think we'd +better have a little talk first."</p> + +<p>"I got no talking to do. This +is a lousy frame-up against me +and the paper. Get my son out +here and do it fast!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">HE put the handkerchief away, +sighed and reached for the +phone.</div> + +<p>It really got me when Tommy +came into the room. He'd been +crying; his face was streaked, and +he looked scared and forlorn.</p> + +<p>"Son," I said, finding it difficult +to keep the rasp out of my +voice, "if you've got a hat, put +it on and let's go."</p> + +<p>Thompson pulled out his handkerchief +again and carefully lowered +himself into the chair behind +the desk. "You don't seem to +understand, Mr. Potter. Your boy +is in trouble. He's been identified +as leading a gang of kids who +spent most of the morning shoplifting +in stores all over town."</p> + +<p>"That's bull," I said. "How +could my boy do a thing like +that? He's only twelve. Who identified +him, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"The shopkeepers and the +other members of the gang."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">FOR ONE awful moment, I +felt a great cavity of doubt. +"Son," I asked, "what's this all +about?"</div> + +<p>Tommy's face creased with +fear and tears brimmed his eyes. +"It was Ashe," he quavered.</p> + +<p>"Ashe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I told him about the +gang."</p> + +<p>"Gang?"</p> + +<p>"The Red Skulls."</p> + +<p>"What the heck are you talking +about?"</p> + +<p>"Some of the fellows got together +and built a hut for a club-house +over on the garbage dump. +We call ourselves the Red Skulls. +I was made leader. I'm called +the Skull Cap."</p> + +<p>"Why haven't I heard about +this?"</p> + +<p>"You never asked, Dad. I tried +to tell you one night, but you +were hurrying to get to that road-house +on the turnpike. You said +you had a big lead on juvenile +delinquency."</p> + +<p>"Well, you certainly didn't try +very hard," I said angrily. "What +was this gang's purpose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, different things. One of +the fellows has a .22 and we +hunt rats. Then—"</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>"That's all."</p> + +<p>"You started to say something +else."</p> + +<p>He kicked at the floor. "Aw, +gee!"</p> + +<p>"Let's have it!"</p> + +<p>"We smoked."</p> + +<p>"Smoked!"</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"And what else?"</p> + +<p>"That's all. Honest!"</p> + +<p>Thompson said, "What about +shoplifting?"</p> + +<p>"No," sniveled Tommy. "That +was Ashe. He wanted me to talk +the gang into shoplifting, but I +wouldn't. Then he changed himself +to look like me and talked +the fellows into it when I wasn't +around. I only know about it +because I ran into them after +they'd been in a store...."</p> + +<p>Thompson gave me a funny +look. "Who's this Ashe he keeps +talking about?"</p> + +<p>I started to tell him. Then I +got a sudden mental flash of how +idiotic it would all sound. "The +boy," I said evenly, "is beside +himself because of all he's been +through. It's time to call a halt +to this farce. I'm going to hire +myself some legal talent."</p> + +<p>He shrugged. "Suit yourself."</p> + +<p>Tommy grabbed my arm and +cried, "Please don't leave me, +Dad!"</p> + +<p>I pulled away from him, feeling +as if I'd dropped him off a +cliff.</p> + +<p>Right outside the station, I met +Nan. She was pale and breathless. +Jones had phoned the news. +She wanted to go to Tommy +immediately.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>I guided her to the car and +pushed her inside. "Listen here," +I said tensely, "for once, don't +make a fuss. Just help me find +Ashe. He's the one who can free +Tommy."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">SHE BEGAN to laugh. "That's +a hot one!" she gasped. +"That's really a hot one!"</div> + +<p>I shook her, thinking she was +hysterical.</p> + +<p>She stopped laughing and +swallowed hard. "Ashe is home."</p> + +<p>"Home?"</p> + +<p>"Blind drunk, with a blonde on +his knee."</p> + +<p>I tramped so hard on the accelerator +that it must have +scraped the ground all the way +home. Ashe didn't hear me pull +up to the house because the radio +was going full blast. I hit the +light switch in the hallway and +the brightness flared against the +lengthening afternoon shadows, +spotting him and the blonde on +the living room couch.</p> + +<p>The blonde looked as if she'd +come from a burlesque runway. +Ashe dumped her on the floor +and staggered to his feet. He'd +changed his appearance again. +Now he looked a strikingly handsome +twenty-five. He came forward +to throw a heavy arm +around my shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Glad to see you, Ted," he +mouthed. "Ran out of money. +Must have more. Small loan...."</p> + +<p>I put both hands on his chest +and pushed. He stumbled back +and thudded against the wall. +"The police have picked up +Tommy," I said flatly. "He's been +charged with the shoplifting you +did today."</p> + +<p>He sobered instantly. He +jerked the blonde to her feet, +booted her out, slammed the door +and came back to me. "Ted, I'm +shocked to hear this. Tell me +about it quickly. We must do +something right away."</p> + +<p>The blonde had begun to howl +and scream curses. I could hear +doors and windows opening all +the way down the street. "You +monster!" Nan spat, and hurried +outside. Presently the girl quieted +down.</p> + +<p>"Ted," Ashe whispered, "I'm +ashamed of myself. Here you befriended +me and all I've done is +get you and your family in +trouble." He held a cupped hand +over his eyes as if he were shading +tears. "Can you possibly find +it in your heart to forgive me?"</p> + +<p>I was moved. After all, a poor, +homeless alien being couldn't +very well be expected to understand +our manners and feelings. +Yet this one did. All because he'd +been touched by my friendship.</p> + +<p>"Ashe," I said, feeling the +the warmth of good will, "I'm +happy to hear you say that. Bygones +are bygones. The important +thing is springing Tommy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Exactly," he said. "We'll go +and explain everything to the +police. But we'll do it in grand +style. This is your big show. We +must have Jones and the Mayor. +We must have photographers, reporters, +television, radio—everything!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">NAN RETURNED. "The girl +will be all right. She was just +upset."</div> + +<p>"Honey," I told her excitedly, +"we're about to stand the whole +country on its collective ear. +Ashe is going to reveal his identity!"</p> + +<p>Nan's face pinched into a look +of disgust. "You mean you're +trusting this—this creature +again?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, honey. Anyone can +make a mistake."</p> + +<p>"That's right!" she exploded. +"You're making one now! Oh, +Ted, stop being such a fool!"</p> + +<p>"Listen here," I said, "this is +the last two minutes of the game. +We're trying to score before the +gun—and you start an argument!"</p> + +<p>She began to blubber.</p> + +<p>Why must she always be so +unreasonable? Why the constant +bickering and tension and unhappiness? +I was sick to death of it. +I grabbed Ashe's arm. "Come on," +I said, "let's go."</p> + +<p>Even outdoors, the air felt hot +and clammy. I headed the car +for the plant, figuring I could do +my phoning from there as well +as pick a crew. But on Main +Street, Ashe spotted a cab and +made me stop.</p> + +<p>He said he'd better go on +ahead. He thought things would +work smoother that way. He +could start the ball rolling on +the release of Tommy, and I +wouldn't be held up by having +to tell people who he was.</p> + +<p>I drove on alone. But it was +a mistake. People simply didn't +believe my story about an alien +being. In various ways and tones +of voice, they all suggested I go +home and sleep it off. In desperation, +I went up to Jones' house, +even though he'd already told +me on the phone that he was in +the middle of a dinner party.</p> + +<p>He came up close to me and +sniffed my breath.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," I told him. "I +never touch it. But maybe I +should smell yours. Anyone who +turns his back on the biggest +story of all time must be drunk!"</p> + +<p>He jerked the cigar from his +mouth and gave me a narrow-eyed, +searching look. "Ted, I just +hope for your sake this isn't +some kind of a joke."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">FIFTEEN minutes later, we +pulled up to the police station +in a three car convoy, with +a big crew from the paper. I led +the group inside, feeling the excitement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +grow in me. I marched +up to the desk sergeant. "Where +is he?"</div> + +<p>The desk sergeant looked +startled. "Who?"</p> + +<p>Well, he wasn't there. He just +wasn't there! It was like getting +tackled two yards from a touch-down +by a tackler you hadn't +realized was anywhere near!</p> + +<p>Jones pushed forward, chewing +agitatedly on his cigar. "Edward, +you've got some nerve, +pulling a stunt like this! It's an +outrage!"</p> + +<p>"Take it easy," I said weakly. +"Something's gone wrong."</p> + +<p>"It certainly has. You must +have gone insane!"</p> + +<p>"Listen here! If you don't stick +with me on this, I'm all through +with the paper!"</p> + +<p>"That suits me fine!"</p> + +<p>I watched him leave, trailing +cigar smoke. The others followed. +My face burned and sweat +trickled down my back and along +my sides. I wanted to hit out at +something....</p> + +<p>A hand gripped my elbow. It +was Sergeant Thompson. "Mr. +Potter, you shouldn't let this get +you down. People's kids get in +scrapes all the time. Tomorrow +you'll have a talk with the judge +and everything will turn out +okay."</p> + +<p>I jerked my elbow away. "In +other words, you think I'm batty, +too!"</p> + +<p>"No," he said, gripping my elbow +again and starting me toward +the door. "It's been hot and +you just need some rest."</p> + +<p>"Thompson," I said, dragging +myself to a halt, "I know it +sounds nuts, but this Ashe character +really exists. Help me find +him and you can cut yourself a +slice. It'll be big time!"</p> + +<p>The grip on my elbow increased. +"Go home, Mr. Potter, +and get a good night's sleep."</p> + +<p>"But it's on the level, Thompson. +Jones and I busted up. I'm +playing on your team now!"</p> + +<p>His face got all flushed. "My +job isn't a game and I don't belong +to any team. Get wise, will +you? Stay in your own back +yard for once. It could stand a +lot of weeding!" He pushed me +out the door then—so hard, I +almost fell.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="cap">STANDING there, feeling the +heat press in on me, I tried +to dope out the next move. My +car was still at Jones' place, so +I'd need a cab. I turned toward +the drugstore at the end of the +block where I could phone. Walking +along, I recalled Ashe had +taken a cab earlier in the evening. +If I could talk to the driver, I +might get a lead on his whereabouts. +I walked faster.</div> + +<p>I thought of Thompson and +his remark about the back yard +... and the weeds. Again, for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +third time, a chill traveled the +length of my spine. I began to +run. I ran past the drugstore and +all the way home.</p> + +<p>They were both in the bedroom. +Nan stood in the far corner +with her back against the wall. +Her shoulders were scratched +and her lip cut. She held a heavy +bookend poised to strike at Ashe, +who was in front of her, moving +stealthily forward.</p> + +<p>The moment I spun him +around, I froze in amazement. I +couldn't recognize him. Then, all +at once, I realized I was looking +at the spitting image of myself.</p> + +<p>He broke from my grasp and +darted to the window. Before I +could follow, Nan had dropped +the bookend and flung herself +into my arms. "Oh, Ted," she +sobbed, "I <i>knew</i> it wasn't you!"</p> + +<p>I kissed her and gently disengaged +her arms. "I've got to get +Ashe," I said.</p> + +<p>When I vaulted through the +window and circled the house, I +spotted him rushing down the +street. I caught him around the +corner at the same spot where +I'd first seen him.</p> + +<p>I slugged him. Yet I knew it +was useless the instant the blow +landed. He felt just like sponge +rubber. But I kept hitting him. +I didn't bother listening to his +cries and I didn't give a damn +that he'd changed himself back +to an old man.</p> + +<p>The blow on the back of my +neck was so sudden, I didn't feel +it. The only sensation was unbalance, +as if I were walking uphill. +Then I was slapped with the +sidewalk.</p> + +<p>Looking up, I could see he was +young, clean-cut and well built. +His long, horsy face was furious. +"You crazy?" he yelled. "Beating +up an old man!"</p> + +<p>I searched desperately for an +explanation—something to say. +Then, abruptly, without having +uttered a sound, I reeled away +and shambled hurriedly down +the street ... home, to Nan.</p> + + +<div class="right extraspacetop">—RICHARD MAPLES</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="center extraspacebot"> +<b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></div> +<div class="center blockquote">This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction June 1956. Extensive +research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this +publication was renewed. +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Scapegoat, by Richard Maples + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SCAPEGOAT *** + +***** This file should be named 36719-h.htm or 36719-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/1/36719/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Dianna Adair and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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