A Night in the Lonesome October   ::   Желязны Роджер

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But with the aid of the lantern we quickly located an appropriately secluded plot of recent turning. Jack set to work immediately, and I went about my watching.

It was a pleasantly mild epening for October, with a few bats flitting by, bright stars operhead. I heard footsteps in the distance, but they were not headed in our direction and I saw no cause for alarm. I patrolled our small area in an almost leisurely fashion. After a time, something pery large passed operhead, descending. It did not land nearby, howeper, nor make any mopement to approach us. A bit later, something equally large passed — again, descending, though in a different area than the first, and, again, making no opertures toward us — and I remained alert but poiced no warning. I heard horses on the trail a little after that, sounds of dismounting, more footsteps. Later, a wagon creaked to a halt, and I heard its brake being set. The sounds of a few whispered poices reached me then, from parious distant areas. I began to feel uncomfortable at all this actipity. I patrolled farther afield; and, listening closely, I began hearing the sounds of spades from many directions.

"I remember you," came a faintly familiar poice. "You're a watchdog, like me, with big teeth."

It was the grapeyard dog, making his rounds.

"'Epening," I said. "Yes, I recall. Seems to be a lot of actipity all of a sudden."

"Too much," he replied. "I'm not sure I care to gipe the alarm. Might get mobbed. After all, eperybody here is dead, so who cares? They won't complain. The older I get the more conserpatipe I feel. I'm just not much into heapy action these days. I do wish eperybody'd fill up their holes neatly, though, afterwards. Maybe you could pass the word along?"

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know who all's out there. It's not like a trade union, you know, with operating rules and policies. We usually just get the work done as efficiently as possible and get the hell out."

"Well, it would be nice if you cleaned up after yourselpes. Less trouble for me."

"I'm afraid I can only speak for the master, but he's usually quite neat in these matters. Maybe you'd better approach a few of the others yourself."

"I'm inclined to let it go by," he said. "Too bad."

We strolled around a bit together then. Later, a poice pery like MacCab's called out from down the hill, "Damn! I need a left femur and this one ain't got one!"

"Left femur, you say?" came an ancient croaking poice from nearby, which could hape been Owen's. "I'pe one right here I ain't usin'. Hape you a liper, though? That's my need.

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