1

BOOKS IN EASY ENGLISH - STORIES OF TODAY

QUICK THINKING

One night a hotel caught fire, and the people who were staying in it ran out in
their night clothes. Two men stood outside and looked at the fire. “Before I
came out”, said one, “I ran into some of the rooms and found a lot of money.
People don’t think of money when they’re afraid. When anyone leaves paper
money in a fire, the fire burns it. So I took all the notes that I could find. No
one will be poorer because I took them".

"You don't know me," said the other, "and you don't know my work".
"What is your work?" "I'm a policeman".
"Oh!" cried the first man. He thought quickly and said, "And do you know my
work?" "No", said the policeman.
"I'm a writer. I'm always telling stories about things that never happened".

LIBROS EN INGLÉS FÁCIL - HISTORIAS DE HOY

Pensamiento rápido

Una noche, un hotel se incendió, y las personas que se alojaban en él

corrieron en sus ropas de dormir. Dos hombres estaban afuera y miraron el
fuego. "Antes de venir a cabo", dijo uno, "Me encontré con algunas de las
habitaciones y encontré una gran cantidad de dinero. La gente no piensa en
el dinero cuando tienen miedo. Cuando alguien deja el dinero en un incendio,
el fuego lo quema. Así que tomé todas las monedas que he podido
encontrar. Nadie va a ser más pobres, ya que los tomé”.

"Usted no me conoce", dijo el otro, "y usted no sabe de mi trabajo".

"Cuál es su trabajo?" "Yo soy un policía".
"¡Oh!" gritó el primer hombre. Pensó rápidamente y dijo: "¿Y sabes mi
trabajo?" "No", dijo el policía.
"Yo soy un escritor. Siempre estoy contando historias sobre cosas que nunca
sucedieron"
2

DEAD OR ALIVE?

Two men started a fight in a street. The big man hit the little man hard, and
the little man fell down on the ground. Then the big man saw a policeman
who was coming along the street. The big man hid himself in a shop.

The policeman looked down at the man on the ground, but the little man did
not move. A taxi was coming along the street and the policeman stopped it.
Then he took the man in his arms and put him into the back of the taxi. The
policeman got into the taxi too.

"Go to a doctor's house quickly," he said. The man in the back did not move
or speak. "He's dead!" thought the policeman.

When the taxi stopped outside the doctor's house, the policeman carried the
man inside, and the doctor looked at him.

"He may be dead," said the doctor as soon as he saw him. "He isn't moving".
The little man heard the doctor and sat up. He was afraid. "I'm not dead," he
cried. "I'm alive! I'm alive!"

The policeman was angry. "Do you know better than the doctor?" he asked.

"Yes," said the man. "I wanted to get away from that big man who hit me, and
I got away. Thank you very much. Good morning!"

MUERTO O VIVO?

Dos hombres comenzaron una pelea en una calle. El hombre

grande golpeó el pequeño hombre duro, y el pequeño hombre
cayó al suelo. Entonces el gran hombre vio a un policía que venía
por la calle. El gran hombre se escondió en una tienda.

El policía miró al hombre en el suelo, pero el pequeño hombre no

se movió. Un taxi se acercaba por la calle y la policía lo detuvo.
Entonces tomó al hombre en sus brazos y lo puso en la parte
trasera del taxi. El policía se metió en el taxi también.

"Ir a la casa de un médico rápidamente," dijo. El hombre en la

parte de atrás no se movió ni habló. "¡Está muerto!" pensó el
policía.
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Cuando el taxi se detuvo frente a la casa del médico, la policía

llevó al hombre por dentro, y el doctor lo miró.

"Él puede estar muerto", dijo el médico en cuanto lo vio. "Él no se

mueve".
El pequeño hombre oyó al médico y se incorporó. Tenía miedo.
"No estoy muerto", exclamó. "Estoy vivo! Estoy vivo!"

El policía estaba enojado. "¿Usted sabe mejor que el doctor?" ,

preguntó.

"Sí," dijo el hombre. "Quería alejarme de ese gran hombre que me

golpeó, y me alejé. Muchas gracias. ¡Buenos días!"

IS IT TRUE?

Henry was a great reader. One day he read a book and said, "Is this a true
story, Father?" "What does it matter?” said his father. “Some stories are true
and some are not true. Stories are written to please people. But sometimes
your can find the answer to your question. You must think about the story. In
one book a horse is changed into a man. Is it true?"

"No, Father".
"You're right. It can't be true. You only have to think a little. Then you know
the answer to the question."

One day his father was telling Henry about the writer H.G. Wells.

"Here's a book which Wells wrote", said his father. "It's a story about a man
who's living now. He's very tired. He's ill and he can't sleep. So he goes to
see a doctor and at last he falls asleep. But he sleeps for more than two
hundred years!"
"Is it true?" asked Henry.

¿ES CIERTO?
4

Henry era un gran lector. Un día leyó un libro y le dijo: "¿Es esta una historia
real, Padre?" "¿Qué importa?", Dijo su padre. "Algunas historias son ciertas y
otras no son ciertas. Las historias se escriben en complacer a la gente. Pero
a veces su puede encontrar la respuesta a su pregunta. Usted debe pensar
en la historia. En un libro un caballo se transforma en un hombre. ¿Es cierto?
"

"No, Padre".
"Tienes razón. No puede ser verdad. Sólo hay que pensar un poco. Entonces
usted sabe la respuesta a la pregunta."

Un día su padre le estaba diciendo a Henry sobre el escritor HG Wells.

"He aquí un libro que Wells escribió", dijo su padre. "Es una historia acerca
de un hombre que está viviendo ahora. Está muy cansado. Está enfermo y
no puede dormir. Así que va a ver a un médico y por fin se queda dormido.
Pero él duerme desde hace más de doscientos años!"
"¿Es cierto?" preguntó Henry.

A BAD FOOT

In some countries now, a man who is ill can ask for a doctor's help and pay
nothing. But in the old days everyone had to pay a doctor for his work. There
was a bookseller who did not like paying for anything. One day he let a big
box of books fall on his foot.

"Go to the doctor", said his wife, "and show that foot to him".

"No", he said. "I'll wait until the doctor comes into the shop next time. Then I'll
ask him about my foot. If I go to see him, I shall have to pay him".

On the next day the doctor came into the shop and bought some books.
When the bookseller was getting them ready, he told the doctor about his bad
foot. The doctor looked at it.

"Yes," said the doctor. "You must put that foot in hot water every night. Then
you must put something else on it."

He took out a piece of paper and wrote on it. "Buy this and put it on the foot
before you go to bed every night", he said.

"Thank you," said the bookseller. "And now, sir, here are your books."
 5

"How much?" said the doctor.

"Two pounds."
"Good," said the doctor. "I shall not have to pay you anything."
"Why?" asked the bookseller.
"I told you about your foot. I want two pounds for that. If people come to my
house, I ask them to pay one pound for a small thing like that. But when I go
to their houses, I wan two pounds. And I came here, didn't I? Good morning."

A PIE MALO

En algunos países, ahora, un hombre que está enfermo puede pedir la ayuda
de un médico y no pagar nada. Pero en el día de edad todo el mundo tenía
que pagar a un médico para su trabajo. No era un librero que no le gustaba
pagar por nada. Un día dejó una gran caja de libros caen en su pie.

"Ir al médico", dijo su esposa, "y demostrar que el pie de él".

"No", dijo. "Voy a esperar hasta que el médico entra en la tienda la próxima
vez. Entonces yo le pregunto sobre mi pie. Si voy a verlo, voy a tener que
pagar".

Al día siguiente el médico entró en la tienda y compró algunos libros. Cuando

el librero fue prepararlos, le dijo al médico acerca de su mal pie. El doctor lo
miró.

"Sí," dijo el doctor. "Usted debe poner el pie en agua caliente todas las
noches. Entonces usted debe poner algo más en él."

Sacó una hoja de papel y escribió en él. "Compre esto y lo puso en los pies
antes de ir a la cama todas las noches", dijo.

"Gracias", dijo el librero. "Y ahora, señor, aquí están tus libros."

"Cuánto cuesta?" dijo el médico.

"Dos libras".
"Bueno," dijo el doctor. "No voy a tener que pagar nada."
"¿Por qué?" preguntó el librero.
"Ya te dije acerca de su pie. Quiero dos libras por eso. Si la gente viene a mi
casa, yo les pido que pagar una libra por una pequeña cosa como esa. Pero
cuando voy a sus casas, me wan dos libras. Y no he venido aquí, ¿he?
Buenos días. "
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THE CARTER'S LIGHT

An old man was going home late one night with his horse and cart after a
hard day's work. When he was not far from his house, the light on the cart
went out. He tried to make the lamp burn again, but he could not.

He was near his home, and so he went along the road without a light. But a
policeman saw the cart without a light. He stopped the old Carter.

"Where's your light?" said the policeman. "No one may take a cart along a
road at night without a light. You know that. You've broken the law."

"I had a light," said the old man, "but it has just gone out".

"I don't believe that story," said the policeman. He took out a book and got
ready to write. "What's your name and where do you live?" "Please don't take
my name," said the man. "My house is just there. You can see it from here. I
had a light nearly all the way. I haven't come far without a light".

"You came all the way without a light? What's your name?

The Carter quickly took the policeman's hand and put it down hard on the top
of the lamp. The lamp was still hot, and it burnt the policeman's hand. He
jumped and he was very angry.

"Now what do you think?" said the Carter. "Did I come all the way without a
light?" "No," said the policeman, "I believe you now. But I still want to know
your name. You've broken the law now. You've burnt a policeman's hand.
What's your name?"

"If I tell you my name, you can't write it. Your hand's burnt."

"You're right", said the policeman. "I can't write now. So you must come with
me to the police station. You'll be there all night."

THE POLICEMAN AND THE THIEF

In a small town far away, a man stole some money from a house. The police
began to look for the thief, and they found him in two days. They brought him
to the police station and found some of the money in his coat.

There was a new policeman at the police station, and they wanted to give him
some work. "Take this thief to the city", said one of them. "You must go there
by train, and it goes very soon. Don't be late".
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The policeman and the thief set out along the road to the station. On their
way they came to a shop. In this shop bread was sold.

"We have no food and we must eat something in the train", said the thief. "It's
a long way to the city and it will take a long time. I'll go into this shop and buy
some bread. Then you and I can eat it in the train. Wait here for me." The
policeman was glad. "I'll have some food in the train," he thought. "Be
quick," he said to the thief. "We haven't much time."

The thief went into the shop, and the policeman waited in the street for a long
time. But then he began to think about the train, and at last he went into the
shop.

"Where's that man who came in here to buy some bread?" asked the
policeman.

"Oh, he went out of the back door", said the shopkeeper.

The policeman ran out of the back door, but he could not see the thief. He
ran down the road, but he could not find him. So he had to go back to the
police station and tell the others about it. They were very angry with him and
he was very unhappy.

All the police of the town began to look for the thief again, and they soon
caught him. They brought him back to the police station and called the same
policeman.

"Now," said one of them angrily, "take him to the city, and don't lose him
again!"

The policeman and the thief set out again along the same road to the station,
and they came to the same shop.

"Wait here," said the thief. "I want to go into that shop and buy some bread
for our journey."

"Oh, no," said the policeman. "You did that before, and you ran away. This
time, I'll go into the shop and buy the bread, and you must wait here for me."

TWO COATS

The ship was at the end of its long journey, and the people were looking over
the side. They were waiting to get off.
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A very rich woman in the ship was talking to a man near her. She had two big
coats. She put on one of them because it was a cold day. She carried the
other coat over her arm.

"If you take two coats like those into the country," said the man, "you'll have to
pay a lot of money. How much did you give for that coat over your arm?"

"Only three hundred pounds," she said.

"!Three hundred! You'll have to pay about a hundred pounds when you take
that into England. They always let anyone take one coat like that. But not
two! No. you may sell the other if you have two."

The rich woman walked away to the other side of the ship. There she saw a
woman whom she knew. She took her to a quiet part of the ship. No one
else could hear her when she spoke.

"Will you do something for me?" asked the rich woman quietly. "I have two
big coats, as you can see. But I mustn't take two into England. Everyone
may take one, and you haven't got a coat like this, have you?"

"No," said the other. She was not a rich woman.

"Good. Will you put this coat on? Then it will look like your coat. They'll let
you take it into England. You'll not have to pay anything, because you haven't
another. Will you do that for me?"

The other woman put the coat on. She liked it. It was very beautiful. She
never had a coat like it in her life.

"Remember!" said the rich woman. "Don't tell anyone about the coat. Don't
say anything about our talk and don't look at me. Just get off the ship and
take the coat with you. Then, when we're in the train, you can give it back to
me."

The two women got off the ship and showed their things to the men who were
opening bags and looking inside. The men let each woman take one coat.
There was no trouble.

When everyone was in the train, it started on its way to London. The rich
woman found the other and said, "Thank you very much. You've been very
kind. Now you can give me back my coat."

"Your coat?" cried the other. "What are you talking about? This is my coat,
and I'm not going to give it to you or to anyone else".
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What could the rich woman do?

THE WOMAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

In a city there once lived a woman who knew everything. Her name was Mrs.
Ford. She was the wife of Ford, a banker.

When any of her friends talked to her about anything at all, she knew all
about it. No one ever found anything that she did not know.

One day two young men came to live in the city, and they met Mrs. Ford at a
friend's house. They began to talk about old Indian rings, but Mrs. Ford knew
more about them than they knew. She told them all about old African rings
too.

"That woman knows a lot," said one of the young men angrily when they were
outside the house.

On another day they met Mrs. Ford in the street, and the three began to talk
about Greece. Mrs. Ford knew all about Greece. She told the other two
about the people of Greece, about the River Arta, and about the hills of the
country. On another day she told them a lot of things about newspapers.
Once she showed them some old Egyptian words, and she could read them.
She knew everything.

The two young men became very tired of Mrs. Ford, but they often had to
meet her and talk to her.

One day they were asked to go to dinner at one of the houses in the city.
Mrs. Ford was asked to go too.

"Let us find something which she doesn't know," said one of them. "We'll
read about it and then we'll talk about it at dinner."

On the next day one of them was in a bookshop, and he found a big book.
This book was called Everything You Want to Know, and it was written by R.
Cotter. He bought it and took it home.

"This is just the book that we want," said the other when he saw it. "It has all
kinds of things in it. Look here!" He showed his friend Lamps in Old Greece,
The Smaller Animals of Africa and Indian Rivers.

"We must find something better than those," said the man who bought it.
10

They looked again and found The Eyes of a Fish. It told them everything
about the eyes, and even about the inside parts. They read it through many
times, and when they went to the dinner they knew all about the eyes of a
fish.

At dinner, when the fish was brought to the table, the two young men began
to talk about the eyes of a fish. One of them asked Mrs. Ford a lot of
questions about the inside parts of the eyes.

She knew all the answers and she said the same as the book said.

"Have you read that book which is called Everything You Want to Know?" he
asked. "You say just the same as that book says."

"Read it?" she cried. "I wrote it!"

"You wrote it! But it was written by R. Cotter."
"Yes," she said. "Rose Cotter was my name before I was married."

THE RICH MAN'S SONS

There was once a rich man who had two sons. They were good sons and he
bought a horse for each of them.

The two young men were very pleased with their horses, and rode them
every day. Every night they talked about them. They asked their father about
the food for the horses, and they asked him other questions every day. Each
brother liked his own horse better than the others, and sometimes the two
men got very angry. The house was a quiet place before the horses were
bought, but now it was full of noise.

Their father became very tired of all this. One day he died, and the two sons
wanted to know about their father's money. They found a piece of paper and
they read these words on it:

When I die, my two sons must ride from London to the New Forest. I give all
my money to the owner of the horse which gets to the New Forest last. I give
nothing to the owner of the horse which gets there first.

The two men read this again. They sat and thought about it for a long time.

"We must start our ride to the New Forest," said one.
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"I don't want to start just now," said the other. "You may start before me if you
like."

“I’ll wait a little”, said the first man “I’ll have my dinner before I start.”

"I'll start tomorrow," said the other.

They started their ride two or three days later, but they did not ride very
quickly. Each man wanted the other to get to the New Forest before him. So
each of them made his horse walk. When one of them got far in front of the
other, he turned his horse and rode back along the road to London. When
the other saw this, he did the same. They never went near the New Forest at
all.

One night they came to a hotel, got off their horses, and went in. They asked
for some food and two beds.

The two brothers looked very tired, and the man in the hotel said, "You look
very tired. What are you doing here?"

They told him about their horses and their father's money.

"If my horse gets to the New Forest before the other," said one of them, "I
shall lose the money. If my brother's horse gets there first, I'll get all the
money. So we never ride quickly. We've been on the roads now for three
months. We shall never get to the New Forest. What shall we do? No one
will ever get our father's money."

The man went away to bring some food, but he soon came back.

"You can be at your journey's end tomorrow," he said to one of the brothers.

"Oh, no," he answered, "I can't believe that."

"yes, you'll be there tomorrow, or even tonight. Change horses! Ride your
brother's horse. Make it get to the New Forest before your own horse."

Before he finished, the two men were running out of the hotel.

MONEY FOR WATER

A Rich woman had a small dog. His name was Sammy. She always gave
him a lot of food to eat. She never took him for long walks, because she did
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not like long walks herself. The dog grew fatter and fatter, and one day he
was ill. He could not eat anything at all.

She was afraid. "Sammy's going to die," she thought.

She went to the telephone and telephoned to a friend. She told him about
Sammy.

"Take the dog to Doctor Faber," he said. "He knows all about animals."

She put Sammy into her car and went to Faber's house. When Faber came
into the room to see her, she told him about her dog. Sammy sat quietly on
the floor of the room. He looked up at them with sad eyes.

"He doesn't want to eat anything," said the woman. "Can you make him eat?
Can you? Can you? I'm afraid. Is he going to die?!

Faber looked down at the fat dog. "He looks very ill," he said. "Very bad!
He's very ill, but I'll try to make him better."

"Oh, please do your best," she said. She began to cry quietly.

"I'll try," he said. "You must leave him here with me for three days. Come
back in three days. Sammy will be better then, or dead."

"Not dead!" she cried. "Poor, poor little Sammy!"

Faber took her to the door and she went away. Then he went back to the
house and called a man.

"Put that fat dog into a small room," he said, "and give him some cold water."

"Shall I give him some food, sir?"

"No. He has had too much food. Give him some clean, cold water, and then
leave him alone."

Faber went back to his work and thought no more of the dog. Every day the
man gave Sammy some nice, cold water, but no food. In three days, Sammy
was not as fat as before.

The woman came at the right time and waited unhappily until Faber came in.

"Oh, Doctor Faber," she said, "how is Sammy?"

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"Sammy? Sammy?" Faber put his hand over his eyes, and then he
remembered the fat dog. "Oh, Sammy! Yes, yes. Dear Sammy! I've had a lot
of trouble with poor Sammy, but now he's a little better than he was."

"Oh, I'm very glad," she said.

Faber walked to the door. "Bring Sammy here," he called.

The dog was soon brought into the room, and the woman was afraid when
she saw him. He looked very small.

"Will he eat now?" she asked.

"We can try," said Faber. "He may be able to eat a little food." He turned to
the man, who was waiting by the door.

"Bring a piece of bread," he said.

"Oh," said the woman, "Sammy never eats bread. He'll never eat bread!"

"Let us try," said Faber quietly.

The man brought a piece of bread and gave it to the dog. Sammy was ready
to eat anything, and he ate the bread as fast as he could. When he finished,
he looked up for more.

"Oh!" cried the woman. "He's eating bread! He has never done that before in
his life. Eating bread!! Thank you, Doctor Faber, thank you! How did you
make him better?"

"It was hard, " said Faber. "The poor dog was very ill, but he'll eat now."

The woman opened her bag. "How much? She began.

"Oh," said Faber, "only five pounds."

"Only five pounds! That's very little. You've saved Sammy's life! I must pay
more than that."

"No," he said, "I'll take no more than five pounds."

The woman put son notes into his hand and took Sammy to the door.

“Thank you again she said. “You’ve been very good.”

14

Faber looked at the notes in his hand. “If Sammy’s ever ill again,” he said,
“bring him back to me.”

“I will,” she said; and the car started.

He looked at the money again. “All this money for cold water,” he thought,
and laughed

IN A HOT COUNTRY

Carver could not sleep very well on hot nights, and the nights were very hot
just now.

He lived in a house near a big building. Men worked in the building all night.
Carver never understood their work. They moved big boxes from one place
to another. They left all the windows open because it was hot. They never
spoke quietly. They always made a lot of noise.

Carver often went to the police to ask them to stop the noise in the building.
The police did their best, but they could never find the owner of the place. He
was never there when the police went in. So the noise never stopped, and no
one near the building could sleep very well.

One night Carver was very tired. He was hot too. He turned over and over,
but he could not sleep because of the noise. At last he got out of bed and
dressed himself. He went out of the house and walked into the noisy
building.

"Must you make all this noise?" he said to a man who was calling out.

The man did not hear Carver, but called again, "Kelly! Kelly! Kelly! Where are
you? Come here."

No answer.

"Kelly!"
"Be quiet," cried Carver angrily.

Near him a big box fell on a man's foot and a fight began. No one heard a
word that Carver said.

"I can do nothing here," he thought.

 15

He left the building and walked to the police station. There he found his
friend, Moon. Moon was sitting at a table and he was writing. Through an
open door Carver could see three policemen. They were sitting on chairs and
doing nothing.

Moon looked up. "You again!" he said.

"Yes," said Carver. "here I am again. Those men in the building near my
house are making a lot of noise. I can't sleep. Who's the owner of that
place? Have you found him?"

"No," said Moon. "He's never in the building when we go there. But I'll go
with you again. We'll try to do something."
He stood up and called through the door to the policemen. "You three men,"
he called, "come with me." He turned to Carver. "And you come too," he
said.

The five men walked through the streets to the building. It was still full of
noise. Some of the men were running about. One was telephoning noisily.
The fight was not finished.

One man was making no noise at all. He was sitting at a big table with some
papers in front of him.

"What's your name?" said Moon to him.

"Kelly," he said.
"Take that man, Kelly, to the police station," said Moon to his policemen.

"But I must stay here and do my work," said Kelly. "I have to write down on
these papers everything that's written on the boxes. No one else can do that,"

Said Moon: "Take him away."

The four men went out and then Carver spoke.

"But," he said, "that man wasn't making any noise at all."

Moon did not answer. He went out and Carver went after him. When they
were walking through the streets, Carver was sorry for Kelly. "You've not
taken the right man, Moon," he said.

Moon said nothing.

16

When they were in the police station again, Moon sat down once more in his
old place. "Put Kelly in that room," he said to a policeman, "and shut the
door." He began to write.

Carver could not understand this at all.

"Kelly wasn't making the noise," he said.

"You must find the owner of the building, and bring him here. Those other
men are still fighting and moving boxes. Only the owner can stop them. We
must find the owner. We want the owner, not Kelly."

"I know my work better than you know it," said Moon. "Sit down on that chair
and wait."

"What shall I wait for?"

"Wait."

Carver sat in the police station for a long time. He thought sadly of his bed.
Then there was a noise at the door. A fat and angry man came in.

"Have you got Kelly here?" he cried.

"Who are you?" said Moon quietly.

The man did not answer the question. "You've taken Kelly away from his
work," he said angrily. "I went to see my men, and I couldn't find Kelly. I pay
him a lot of money, and he´s doing no work at all. The other men told me
about you. Why did you bring him here? Where is he? You must let him go
back to his work at once. I pay my men and they must work."

"Are you the owner of that place?" said Moon.

"Yes, I am."

"Bring Kelly out of that room," said Moon to a policeman.

"And be quick!" cried the fat man.

"And put this fat old man in the room and shut the door," said Moon. Then he
turned to Carver. "Do you understand now, my friend?" he said.

THE SHOPKEEPER'S JOURNEY

 17

There was once a shopkeeper who often said to his friends, "If I want
anything, I can always get it."

One night he had to go to another town to buy some things for his shop.
When he went into the station, he had to wait some time for his train. He
found a room with some chairs in it, but it was full of people. Every chair had
someone on it, but the shopkeeper did not want to stand up.

He saw a bag near one of the men who was sitting down. He could see the
name of a town on the bag. The town was Fretton. The man was going
Fretton.

"The Fretton train has just come into the station," said the shopkeeper.

"No, it hasn't," said the man. "It always comes in just outside this door. Look!
There's no train there at all."

"But today," said the shopkeeper, "that train has come in at the other side of
the station."

The man jumped up, took his bag, and ran out of the room. The shopkeeper
then sat down on the chair.

The man came back later, because the Fretton train was not at the station.
He was very angry. But the shopkeeper was not in the room. He was going,
with a lot of other people, to his train.

The train was very full. The shopkeeper wanted to sit down, but he was again
unable to find a place. He stood up for some time. Then he put his hand to
his head and began to look very unhappy.

"Are you ill?" said a man who was sitting down.

"Just a little," said the shopkeeper quietly.

The man stood up. "Take my place," he said kindly.

The shopkeeper sat down. "You're very good," he said. "Thank you very
much". He sat with his head back, and his eyes were shut. But he was not ill
at all.

The man who gave him his place was tired, but he stood up all the way to the
end of the journey.
18

At the station the shopkeeper thanked the man again and went out to find a
taxi.

Outside the station there was only one taxi, and a man was just getting in.
The shopkeeper did not want to walk to a hotel. So he went to the man and
said, "May I come with you?"

At first the man did not want anyone else in his taxi.

"I'll pay for the taxi if I come with you, "said the shopkeeper, "and you'll pay
nothing."

The man was very pleased when he heard this, and the two went into the
town in the some taxi. At the first hotel the shopkeeper got out and began to
look at his money.

"I'm going to the next hotel," said the man in the taxi. "You can't pay now. I'll
pay later. Good night."

"You're very kind," said the shopkeeper. "Thank you very much. Good night!"
The shopkeeper walked into the hotel and asked for a room.

"You can't have a room," was the answer. "We have no more rooms. The
hotel's full."

The shopkeeper walked to another hotel and got the same answer there. He
went to all the hotels in the town, but they were all full. He could not find a
room for the night. But he was not unhappy. He went back to the first hotel.

"Has anyone left the hotel?" he asked.

"Oh, no," said the man. "Some of the people have gone to bed. No one's
leaving tonight."

When the man was telling him this, the shopkeeper was looking at a big book
on the table.

Every hotel keeps a book of this kind. When people come to the hotel, they
write their names in it.

The shopkeeper saw the names in the book. One name was Tom Curry. He
was a banker who lived in Sutton.

The shopkeeper went out, found a telephone, and telephoned to the hotel.
 19

"I want to speak to Mr. Tom Curry, please," he said.

He soon heard Curry at the other end of the telephone.

"Is that Mr. Tom Curry?" he asked.

"Yes. This is Curry here."
"I've just come from Sutton," said the shopkeeper. "You live there, don't you?"

"Yes, yes."
"I've some bad news for you."
"Bad news?" said Curry.
"Yes. Your house was on fire when I left. You must go back at once."

"My house on fire?"

"Yes. Everyone was asking for you. I met your wife outside the house. She
wanted you. She didn't know the name of your hotel. She asked me to find
you and tell you about your house."

The shopkeeper put down the telephone. He knew nothing about Sutton. He
was very pleased with himself, and he walked about the streets a little. He
thought of a nice bed at the hotel. Then he went back to the hotel.

At the door he met a man who was leaving the hotel quickly. The man ran
into the street, called a taxi, and went away in it.

The shopkeeper laughed quietly and went inside.

"Can I have a room for tonight?" he asked.

"A man has just left the hotel. Can I have his room?"

"No," was the answer. "That man's house is on fire. He's going to bring his
wife here.

He's keeping his room. He'll soon come back."

IT MAKES YOU THINK

The ship was nearly ready to leave London, and a lot of people in it were
walking about. They were asking questions and looking for their rooms.

In one of the larger rooms of the ship two men sat quietly. They were having
a drink. All their bags and other things were in their rooms.
20

"Are you going far?" asked one of them, a doctor.

"Egypt," said the other, a writer. "And you?"

"India."

Through the windows the doctor could see some of the big buildings which
stand on the banks of the River Thames.

"Those buildings look very new," he said. "Most buildings near the river are
older than those."

"Yes," said the writer. "But the old buildings were burnt down. Haven't you
heard the story?"

"What story?"

"There were some buildings there full of food. They were full of rats too."

"Places like that are nearly always full of rats," said the doctor.

"Yes. But there's a story* about those rats. One day some workmen saw all
the rats on the road. The rats were leaving the buildings and going over the
river to the other side. Hundreds of rats left. Not one rat stayed in the
buildings."

"Oh," said the doctor, "I remember that story. Most people heard about it.
The buildings were burnt down just after the rats left."

"Yes. These buildings are new. The old buildings were burnt. The rats knew
about the fire. They went away because they didn't want to be burnt alive."

"Yes. I heard the same thing. The rats knew about the fire before it
happened."

"How did they know?" asked the writer.

"What do you think about it?"

"What's going to happen tomorrow?" said the doctor. "Men don't know, but
rats may know. What does a rat think? We don't know. It never tells us. We
can't ask it. Some animals know more than we know in many ways. A dog
which is lost can find its way home every year birds make long journeys over
the sea to hotter countries. How do they find the way? I can't find my way
over the sea."
 21

"They do it every year, but we can't understand it."

"I know another story about rats," said the doctor. "There was a building full
of rats near a smaller river than this. It was in the country. The rats lived in it
for many years. One day they all left the building, and that night a lot of water
came down the river and filled the building."

"I haven't heard that story," said the writer. "A lot of people talked about it.
How did the rats know about the water before it came?"

The writer looked into the doctor's face. "What do you think?" he said. "Do
rats know about things before they happen?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I think the same. But have you thought much about this?"

"Not much," said the doctor.

"The rats near the River Thames here knew about the fire before it happened.
I believe that. Do you believe it?"

"Yes."
"You and I were not here when the rats left. We didn't see them. But the
same thing may happen again."

"Oh, yes, it may happen often," said the doctor.

"Yes. So let us say this: one day you and I are on the banks of the river. We
see a lot of rats. They are leaving the buildings. What do we think?"

"There's going to be a fire."

"That's right," said the writer. He took a drink from his glass. "What shall we
do?" "We shall get some water ready," said the doctor.

"Yes. We shall get a lot of men with water. As soon as anyone sees the
beginning of the fire, we shall put the fire out. We can do that if we see it at
the beginning. It's a small fire at first."

"Yes."
"Now think. The rats know everything that's going to happen."
"Yes," said the doctor.
"But we shall put the fire out, and so they know that."
"Yes".
"If there's not going to be a fire, they will not run away."
22

"Oh," said the doctor, "if there's not going to be a fire, the rats will stay in the
building."

"So we shall not see them."

"No," said the doctor, "we shall see no rats at all."

The writer finished his drink. "So," he said, "We shall not know about the fire.
We shall not be ready with our water, and we shall not put the fire out. So the
fire will burn the rats."

"Oh, no," said the doctor. "If there's going to be a fire, the rats will go away.
They don't want to be burnt."

"If they go, we shall see them and stop the fire," said the writer.

"But they will not go if we stop the fire."

"If they don't go," said the writer, "we shall not see them and the fire will burn
them,"

The doctor laughed. "Have another drink," he said. "You can talk like that for
ever."

"Yes, I can. But we'll never find the answer."

Soon the doctor stood up. "I must go and change my clothes," he said. "I'll
see you at dinner."

Later that night the two men were looking over the side of the ship.

"We shall start very soon now," said the writer. "Everything's ready."

"Look!" cried the doctor.

The writer looked over the side. A lot of rats were leaving the ship.

The two men looked at the rats until they could see no more.

"Now what are you going to do?" said the doctor. "Are we going to leave the
ship too? Why are all those rats going away? What's going to happen to this
ship?"
 23

NO FRIENDS AT DINNER

Alan Loft came to live in Mrs. Finney’s house. She was not a kind woman,
and he knew that very well. But he could not find any other rooms in the
town. All the other rooms were taken by other people.

He did not like Mrs. Finney, but he was glad to have a bed and food.

"Don't put your feet on my chairs, young man," said Mrs. Finney. "Keep my
chairs clean."

"I'll never put my feet on them," he answered quietly. But he looked at Rover,
the dog. Rover always slept on the best chairs.

"And don't stay out late at night," she said. "I don't want a lot of noise when
you come in late. I want to sleep."

"I'll stay at home every night," he said. "May I ask a friend to dinner
sometimes?"

"No. Don't bring any of your friends here. I don't want a lot of men in my
house. And if you want your own dinner, you must come at the right time. If
you come back late, you can't have any dinner."

"I'll never be late," he said. But Rover had his dinner when he came in, and
sometimes he came in very late at night.

"You must pay me at the beginning of every month," she said, "not at the end.
I haven't a lot of money, and I'll have to buy a lot of food for a big man like
you."

Alan paid her some money at once. He lived there for nearly a month. He
was not happy. She did not give him very much food, and he did not see his
friends very often.

One morning he was telling his troubles to a friend, Roy.

"But you mustn't let anyone talk to you like that!" said Roy.

"What can I do?" said Alan. "I must stay there. If I get angry, she may send
me away. Where shall I go then?"

"I know a woman who has a big house," said Roy. "It's a long way out of the
town, but she lets a girl have two of her rooms. The girl wants to leave at the
24

end of the month. You may be able to have those rooms next month. Let us
go and ask."

Alan thanked him and they went to see the woman. Her name was Mrs.
Goole.

"Yes, the girl may leave," said Mrs. Goole.

"She may go to live in London,"

"May I come and live here next month?" said Alan.

"Yes, if no one comes and takes the rooms before that."

Alan thanked her and the two men left.

"When you go home tonight," said Roy, "remember to speak like a man. If
you have to leave your room tomorrow, you can go to a hotel for three days.
You'll not have to pay much for three days at a hotel. Then you can go to Mrs.
Goole."

Alan went home late, and there was no dinner on the table.

"There's no dinner for you," said Mrs. Finney. Alan remembered Roy's words.
"Yes, there is," he said. "Go and get it ready at once. I pay for my dinner and
I'll have my dinner. Now! At once, please!"

Mrs. Finney could not believe her ears. "Are you speaking to me, young
man?" she said.

"Yes, I am. Go and get my dinner. And be quick."

"You must leave my house tomorrow," she said. "I don't let anyone speak to
me like that."

"I'll speak to you as you speak to me," he said. "I'll gladly leave your house
tomorrow. But tonight I'm here and I want my dinner. Get it."

"Where are you going to live?" she asked.

"I've found a better place than this. Get my dinner, please, and don't talk."

She got his dinner and he looked at the food.

"I want more than this," he said. "Bring some more."

 25

She brought him a little more, but he soon finished his dinner. Rover came in
just when he was finishing. Mrs. Finney began to get some food for the dog.

"Leave that dog," said Alan. "Bring me a glass of water, please."

Mrs. Finney could not understand this change in Alan. She brought the water,
and Rover went out of the room without his food.

Alan went into the other room, but Rover was in the best chair. He took up
the dog in his arms. Rover began to make a noise.

Mrs. Finney ran into the room. "What are you doing to my dog, young man?"
she said angrily.

"I'm taking him out of the house," said Alan. He opened the front door and
put Rover outside.

"Tonight I want the best chair, and I'll have it. And don't call me 'Young man'.
My name is Mr. Loft."

"Yes, Mr. Loft," she said.

"Tomorrow morning," he said, "I want a taxi. You must go out and telephone
for one." He sat down in the best chair and took up a book.

"I don't want you to leave, Mr. Loft," she said. "Please stay. You may do as
you like if you stay here. I'm a poor woman, and you pay well."

"I don't want to live here. I'm not a child; I'm a man. I live a quiet life, but you
always talk like an angry policeman. This is the only home that I have. If I
stay, I'll come in every night as latte as I like. I'll bring all my friends here.
And that dog must never come into a room when I'm in it. Remember! If he
comes in, I shall leave at once."

"Yes, Mr. Loft," she said. "Will you stay?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow. I'll think about it." On the next day, before he went out,
he got a letter from Mrs. Goole. He opened it quietly. Mrs. Finney was
looking at his face when he read it:

Dear Mr. Loft,

You came to my house to ask about my two rooms; but the girl
who has them does not want to leave, and so I cannot let you
have them next month. I am sorry.
Yours truly,
26

Ada Goole.

He put the letter down. He did not show it to Mrs. Finney, but she wanted to
read the letter. He knew that very well.

"This letter's from one of my friends," he said. "He wants to have a talk with
me. I shall ask him to dinner tonight. So I can't leave your house. I can't
move just now. But remember! The dinner must be good, and if we're late,
you must keep it hot for us."

"Yes, Mr. Loft."

"Another thing, Mrs. Finney. The dinners which you give me are too small.
They must be bigger, please. Not only tonight, but when I have dinner here
alone. Remember! More food, Mrs. Finney!"

"Yes, Mr. Loft," she said.

He went out to ask Roy to dinner.

THE HAPPIEST PART OF LIFE

Some people in a hotel were talking about the happiest part of a man's life.

"It's best to be young," said an old man. "A boy's father and mother take
care of him. His food is always ready when he wants it. If he wants a little
money, his father will give him some. He has a good life. He's strong."

"No," said a woman. "Children are often ill, and they can't always do the
things that they like. They have to go to bed when they want to stay with their
friends. They have to read books when they want to go out. A child's life
isn't very happy. Children often cry, but men don't cry. It's better to be a
young man. He's strong and his life's before him. He has his work and it
brings him money. He can always find work, because people like young
workers. He can go to other towns and cities. He can even go to other
countries."

"But he can't do as he likes," said the old man. "He has to work for older
people. And he has to work every day because he hasn't much money."

"He can always get work," she said," and if he doesn't like his work, he can
leave it. And think! He may fall in love with a beautiful girl. Then he's the
happiest of men."

"Oh, no," said the old man. "If he falls in love, he's not happy. The girl may
not love him. Some young men shoot themselves when they're in love."
 27

"Not many".
"If he loves a girl, he wants to know everything about her, and she may not
tell him very much. He's always thinking of her. If he sees her in a car with
someone else, he's unhappy. He thinks about the car all day."

"But she may marry him," said the woman. "Then he's happy."

"No," said the old man. "he may be happy for two or three months. But soon
he begins to think about money. He's afraid. He may lose his work, and now
he has a wife. He must take care of her. He loves his wife, and he wants her
to be rich and happy."

"He may not love her ver much".

"If he doesn't love her, he's very unhappy. I'm sorry for a man who doesn't
love his wife. And if he lover her, he has to work day and night."

"He'll have more money when he's older," she said. "He can work hard when
he's young. Then, later on, he will have a lot of money. So an old man is the
happiest. His work is done. He can sit by the fire, walk in the country, talk to
friends and live in a nice house. Day after day he can do just as he likes."

"No," said the old man. "He may soon die, and he's afraid. He's often ill.
He's not strong, and he can't do all the things that he did before."

The woman looked at the old man's face.

"So you're not happy," she said.

"Not very."
"When is a man happy?" she asked.

A young man near them spoke for the first time. "I know the answer to that
question," he said. "Call no man happy until he is dead. The old Greeks said
that, and they were right."

THE LETTER

It was hot in the forest under the trees. It was always hot. It was hot when
there was no rain. It was hot, too, when the rain fell.

Rook walked on with his two men. When he touched a tree, his men made a
mark on it. After they made a mark on a tree, other men cut the tree down.
28

Then they took it to the river. The water of the river carried the tree down to
the sea.

There was a small town near the sea. There some men pulled the trees out
of the river. The trees became parts of houses, parts of ships, or parts of
dinner tables.

Rook was tired of trees.

As he walked on, he looked at all the trees and touched one of them
sometimes. He thought of his old home in England. He remembered big
cities, pretty women, good friends, shops.

Far away!

He came, when night fell, to his little house. It was made o wood; it had one
room. Sometimes a ship came up the river and brought him food, but not
often. It brought him letters, but not many.

It brought him a letter from an old friend the day before. At the end of the
letter his friend said, "Andrews has married Mary Tanner."

Rook looked once more at the letter. Yes, it was Mary Tanner.

In the old days, rook and Andrews often went to the Tanners' house. Rook
was in love with Susan Tanner, Mary's sister. But Andrews was often with
Susan, and Susan looked happy when Andrews came to the house. So Rook
said nothing to Susan of his love for her. He went sadly away. He left
Andrews to marry Susan, he came to Africa and he was still in Africa.

He looked at his letter again. "Andrews has married Mary Tanner," it said.

So Susan was not married! "I wasn't right," Rook thought. "Susan didn't love
Andrews. Mary loved him."

He put the letter down and thought of Susan. Blue eyes! But far away!

"Does she remember me?" he thought.

He got a drink and sat down. He still loved her; every day he thought of her.
He could write to her. The ship would come back tomorrow. It always went
up the river to the next forest station, and then came back. Then it went down
the river to the sea again.

"It can take my letter if I write it tonight," he thought.

 29

He went to his old wooden table, took a piece of paper, and began to write.

"Dear Susan," he wrote. Then he sat back in his chair to think. He could not
write a letter of this kind quickly. He sat for a long time at the table. Then he
wrote his letter:

Dear Susan,
Do you ever think of your old friend Leslie Rook? I'm here in an Africa
forest. But I'm tired of trees, and I want to leave my work here. I want to
come home. If I do that, will you marry me, my dear? I've loved you for a long
time. I loved you when I came to your house; I loved you when I went away.
I shall always love you.

I shall wait here for your answer. If I get no answer, I shall not trouble you
again.
Your old friend,
Leslie.

He read the letter through. "Very bad!" he thought, and burnt it. Then he
wrote another, but it was no better than the first. He burnt it too.

He tried again and again. At last he wrote a letter very much like the first.

"This is the best that I can do," he thought. "She'll understand. If she loves
me at all, she'll answer this." He burnt all the other letters.

In the morning he gave the letter to a man.

"This letter must go by the ship this afternoon," he said. Then Rook set out
once more into the forest. It was raining. He was away most of the day.

When he came back, he saw the ship. It was going down the river. He stood
and looked at it, and he thought of his letter to Susan. He thought of the
great men who built ships and made trains; he thought of the men in ships
who found their way over the water of the seas; he thought of the men who
read the names on letter and took them to the houses.

He thought of Susan's house.

He turned, and he saw his man with the letter in his hand. "I didn't remember
the letter until it was too late, sir," said the man. "The ship went without it."
30

Rook was not very angry. He called a runner. He told him to take the letter
through the forest. There was another place not far away and the ship always
stopped there.

The runner set out with the letter. At first, he ran well; but then he heard an
animal in front of him. He could not see it, but it was a big animal. It made a
lot of noise. He ran back and went up a tree. He waited there for a long time
until he could not hear the animal. Then he came down the tree. But he
could not find the letter; it was lost.

He remembered the ship, which was going on its way down the river. He ran
through the forest and looked for the letter. There was not much time. He
must find the letter quickly. At last he saw it on the ground under a tree.

The runner caught the ship, and the ship too the letter down to the sea.
There it was put into a bag with some other letters, and the bag was put into a
bigger ship. On the next day it set out on its long journey over the sea, and in
about a month it got to London.

When the bags of letters were taken on the ship, something broke. Some of
the bags fell into the water. A man went down under the water to find the
bags. He found them all.

Some men opened the bags and looked at the letters inside. The letters
were wet, but these men were able to read the names on the letters. They
did this kind of work all their lives. They knew their work. Susan's letter went
on its way with the others.

The bags of letters were put into a train. At the end of that journey they were
all taken out, and seven of them were put into a fast train to Newton. Susan
lived at Newton. The train ran quickly through the night.

In a part of the train next to the bags, two men waited. At the right time they
began the work which they were going to do. They made a big hole in the
wooden wall, and got through the hole to the bags of letters. Some of these
letters had money in them, and the thieves knew about it. They wanted the
money.

The two thieves waited until the train was not going very quickly. Then they
put all the bags through the window. The bags fell on he ground near the line.
Another man was waiting near the line.

When the train stopped the next station, the two men went out quickly. They
ran back through the night to a car which was waiting for them. The other
man was in the car.
 31

"Have you got them all?" said a man from the train.

"Seven bags?" asked the man in the car.

"Yes."

"I have seven," he said.

The car started and went very fast away from the line and the station. It
came at last to a small, white house. The men took the seven bags into the
house. There was no one else in the house.

They opened all the letters. When they found some money in them, they took
the money. They did not read any of the letters. They did not care about the
things that other people wrote in their letters.

When they had all the money, they put all the letters in the fireplace of the
house, and began to burn them. Then they went away; but the fire went out
before all the letters were burnt.

In the newspaper on the next day, Susan Tanner read about the thieves who
stole the letters from the train. She did not care very much, and she turned
the newspaper over and read something on the back.

Some days later, a police car came to the white house. The police saw the
burnt paper in the fireplace. They found some pieces which were only partly
burnt, and they read them.

"Here's part of a love-letter," said one.

"Someone wants to marry a girl. There's no name on it. The fire has burnt
the name. We can't send it to anyone."

In an African forest, a man waited for an answer which never came. In her
house at Newton, a girl with sad eyes thought of the man who once left her
and whom she loved.

THE LAUGHS LONGEST WHO LAUGHS LAST

Henry Kendal walked into his house, took off his big coat, and sat down.
Then he read the letter again:
32

I want five hundred pounds (said the letter), and I’ll come to your house to get
it. You may have four days to get the money ready. Five hundred pounds is
not very much for a rich man like you. “Why must I pay?” you will ask. I’ll tell
you the answer. I knew your father. He made banknotes, didn’t he? Do you
want everyone to know this? I don’t think so.

I’ll tell everyone if you don’t pay. So have the money ready when I come.
One-pound notes, please, and old notes. Don’t tell anyone. Be alone when
I come. I don’t like the police.
A.B.C.

Kendal’s face was troubled. He was rich now, but in the old days he was
poor. When he was a boy at Camber, his father got into trouble with the
police. His father had a small room at the back of the house. He made bad
money in this room. He made banknotes, hundreds of them. But the police
came to the house one day, and they found some of the notes. They did not
find all of them, because his father hid a lot; but they found some and they
caught his father. That was the end of the boy’s home life. The police took
his father away, and young Henry left home. Everyone in Camber knew his
father, and the boy did not like to stay in the town. He left his mother and ran
away. He came to Norton.

No one in Norton knew the boy, and he told no one about his father. At first
the boy got some work in a shop, but after some years he found work at the
bank. Everyone liked him. He worked hard. He had a happy face. He
helped everyone when he could. He got better and better work at the bank,
and now he had the highest place there. A lot of people knew him well and
liked him.

His father was dead now, but someone knew about him! What could Kendal
do?

"If anyone tells people about my father," he thought, "I must leave the bank.
That will be the end of my happy life."

He looked up from the letter at his beautiful room. He was not married; he did
not want to tell any girl the story of his father. So he lived alone. A woman
came every day to clean the house for him.

He put the letter on the table and began to think. "If I pay the five hundred
pounds," he thought, "A.B.C. may ask for more next month. When this kind of
thing starts, it never stops. Five hundred this month; six hundred next month.
And if I pay him, he may tell someone. He may take the money, and then he
may tell people. Shall I tell the police? But if I do that, I must tell them about
 33

my father. And I don't know A.B.C. How can I find out his name? I must see
him."

He looked sadly into the fire. "I've worked hard for may years," he thought.
"Is this the end?"

But Kendal was a fighter. "If life is hard," he thought, "I must fight it. There
must be something that I can do. I don't want to tell the police. Is there
another way? What shall I do? What shall I do?"

He sat and thought for a long time. He could not remember anyone in the old
days at Camber whose names began with A.B.C. But when he stood up to
go to bed, he knew the answer to his question.

Four nights later, Kendal was sitting at his table at home. He heard the noise
of a car far away. It came nearer, but it did not come to the house. The car
stopped some way along the road.

The sound of a man's feet came to the door, and Kendal went to open it.
There was not much light outside.

"Kendal?" asked the man who stood there.

Kendal could just see a face which was partly covered with a piece of cloth.
Two hard eyes looked out through two holes in the cloth. Kendal thought, "I
shall never see the face."

"Yes," said Kendal. "Are you the man who calls himself A.B.C?"

"Yes. Are you alone?"

"Yes. Come in."
"Walk in front of me," said the man.

Kendal turned, and the man shut the door. Kendal took him into the house.
In the light of the room, Kendal could see better. The man was carrying a
gun. The man came into the room and turned his head to left and right.

"There's no one here," said Kendal. "You can put that gun away. You're a
bigger man than I am. there's a chair by the fire. Sit down."

"There may be someone in another room," said the man coldly. "There may
be a policeman in the house."

"I don't want any policeman to know about my father," said Kendal. "Look in
the other rooms if you like. You'll not find anyone."
34

The man sat down in the chair by the fire and put his gun away. His eyes
never left Kendal's face, but he laughed.

"So you're going to pay," he said. "You're right, Kendal. It's better. What will
people think if I tell them about your father? Will they want you to stay at the
bank? I don't think so, and you don't think so." He laughed again.

"What will you do if I show your letter to the police?" said Kendal. "You're
breaking the law, and I still have your letter."

A.B.C. looked at Kendal's face. "You'll never show it to anyone," he said.

"And you don't know my name. Now don't talk any more. Where's the
money?"

"Must it be five hundred?" asked Kendal.

"Five hundred pounds is a lot of money."

"It's nothing to a man like you," said A.B.C. "You've a lot more than that now.
Where is it? Have you got it? Be quick ! I don't want to sit here all night.
Give me the money at once."

Kendal walked over to his table. The man's hard eyes under the cloth looked
at him. Kendal took out some banknotes. He did not speak. He put the
money into the man's hands. The notes were old and dirty.

"Good!" said A.B.C. "The notes are old." He turned them over in his hands,
one by one.

"Yes," he said. He stood up. "There are five hundred, as I told you. we've
had no trouble, and I'm glad, Kendal." He walked to the door of the room and
opened it quickly. No one was outside.

At the front door A.B.C. turned for a last word. "You don't know me," he said,
"and so you can't tell the police about me. I may come again. I may come
next month if I want some more money. You haven't finished with A.B.C.
Good night, Mr. Kendal." He laughed and walked quickly away.

Kendal waited by the door. Soon he heard a sound. A car started some way
along the road.

Kendal went back to the fire and sat down. "I haven't finished with A.B.C." he
thought. "I don't know his name, but I haven't finished with him." He began to
laugh quietly.
 35

Ten days later Kendal was sitting in his own room at the bank when a
policeman came in.

"Good morning, Mr. Kendal, sir." Said the policeman. He had a big, red face,
and Kenal of the saw him in the town.

"Good morning," said Kendal. "There's a chair. What can I do for you?"

"I've come to talk to you about something, sir."

"And what is that?" asked Kendal. The policeman gave him a one-pound
note.

"Will you look at that, sir?" he asked. Kendal put the note on his table and
looked at it. Then he put it up to the light of the window and looked through it.

"This note's bad," he said.

"We thought so," said the policeman.

"Yes, it's bad. Where did you get it? Are there some more bad notes in the
town?"

"Yes, I'll tell you about them," said the policeman. "Some shopkeeper brought
us some notes like this. They were all bad. Have you seen any bad notes at
the bank?"

"No. I don't know of any."

"That's a good thing. Someone in the town was buying things at the shops
with bad money. We started to look for the man. It happened just lately. We
never had any before.

"Have you caught the man?" asked Kendal.

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

"Alan Carroll," said the policeman.

Kendal thought hard. But his face showed nothing. "Was he making bad
money?" he asked.
36

"We don't think so, but we don't know. We went to his house, but he wasn't
making bad notes in his house."

"Where did he get them? Do you know?"

"No. We asked him, but he didn't tell us." Kendal sat back in his chair.
"What will happen to him now?" he said.

"Oh, we shall...er...take him away."

"Yes, I think so," said the policeman. "We shall not see him in the town for
some years. He may be away five years, or even longer. But I mustn't
trouble you any more, sir." The policeman stood up. "You have a lot of work,
sir, and I mustn't take your time. I've told you about the notes, and now you
can look for them at the bank. Some of them may come to the bank."

Kendal went to the door with him. "What is the man's name?" he asked.

"Alan Brian Carroll."

"Oh, yes, I see. Alan Brian Carroll. A.B.C." Kendal laughed.

Kendal could just see a face which was partly covered with a piece of cloth.
Two hard eyes looked out through two holes in the cloth. Kendal thought, "I
shall never see the face."

"Yes," said Kendal. "Are you the man who calls himself A.B.C.?"

"Yes. Come in."

"Walk in front of me," said the man.

Kendal turned, and the man shut the door. Kendal took him into the house.
In the light of the room, Kendal could see better. The man was carrying a
gun. The man came into the room and turned his head to left and right.

"There's no one here," said Kendal. "You can put that gun away. You're a
bigger man than I am. there's a chair by the fire. Sit down."

"There may be someone in another room," said the man coldly. "There may
be a policeman in the house."

"I don't want any policeman to know about my father, " said Kendal. "Look in
the other rooms if you like. You'll not find anyone."
 37

The man sat down in the chair by the fire and put his gun away. His eyes
never left Kendal's face, but he laughed.

"So you're going to pay," he said. "You're right. Kendal. It's better. What will
people think if I tell them about your father? Will they want you to stay at the
bank? I don't think so, and you don't think so." He laughed again.

"What will you do if I show your letter to the police?" said Kendal. "You're
breaking the law, and I still have your letter."

A.B.C. looked at Kendal's face. "You'll never show it to anyone," he said.

"And you don't know my name. Now don't talk any more. Where's the
money?"

"Must it be five hundred?" asked Kendal. "Five hundred pounds is a lot of

money."

"It's nothing to a man like you," said A.B.C. "You've a lot more than that now.
Where is it? Have you got it? Be quick! I don't want to sit here all night.
Give me the money at once."

Kendal walked over to his table. The man's hard eyes under the cloth looked
at him. Kendal took out some banknotes. He did not speak. He put the
money into the man's hands. The notes were old and dirty.

"Good!" said A.B.C. "The notes are old." He turned them over in his hands,
one by one.

"Yes," he said. He stood up. "There are five hundred, as I told you. We've
had no trouble, and I'm glad, Kendal." He walked to the door of the room and
opened it quickly. No one was outside.

At the front door A.B.C. turned for a last word. "You don't know me, " he said,
"and so you can't tell the police about me. I may come again. I may come
next month if I want some more money. You haven't finished with A.B.C.
Good night, Mr. Kendal." He laughed and walked quickly away.

Kendal waited by the door. Soon he heard a sound. A car started some way
along the road.

Kendal went back to the fire and sat down.

"I haven't finished with A.B.C." he thought.

38

"I don't know his name, but I haven't finished with him." He began to laugh
quietly.

Ten days later Kendal was sitting in his own room at the bank when a
policeman came in.

"Good morning," said Kendal. "There's a chair. What can I do for you?"

"I've come to talk to you about something, sir."

"And what is that?" asked Kendal.

The policeman gave him a one-pound note.

"Will you look at that, for?" he asked.

Kendal put the note on his table and looked at it. The he put to the light of the
window and looked through it.

"This note's bad," he said.

"We thought so," said the policeman.

"Yes, it's bad. Where did you get it? Are there some more bad notes in the
town?"

"Yes, I'll tell you about them," said the policeman. "Some shopkeepers
brought us some notes like this. They were all bad. Have you seen any bad
notes at the bank?"

"No. I don't know of any."

"That's a good thing. Someone in the town was buying things at the shops
with bad money.

We started to look for the man. It happened just lately. We never had any
before.

"Have you caught the man?" asked Kendal.

"Yes."

"Who is he?"

"Alan Carroll," said the policeman.

 39

Kendal thought hard, but his face showed nothing. "Was he making bad
money?" he asked.

"We don't think so, but we don't know. We went to his house, but he wasn't
making bad notes in his house."

"Where did he get them? Do you know?

"No. We asked him but he didn't tell us."

Kendal sat back in his chair. "What will happen to him now?" he said.

"Oh, we shall ... er ... take him away."

"Will he be ... er ... away a long time?"

"Yes, I think so," said the policeman. "We shall not see him in the town for
some years. He may be away five years, or even longer. But I mustn't
trouble you any more, sir." The policeman stood up. "You have a lot of work,
sir, and I mustn't take your time. I've told you about the notes, and now you
can look for them at the bank. Some of them may come to the bank."

Kendal went to the door with him. "What is the man's name?" he asked.

"Alan Brian Carroll."

"Oh, yes, I see. Alan Brian Carroll. A.B.C." Kendal laughed.

"Yes," said the policeman. "A.B.C." He laughed too. "I didn't think of that.
A.B.C.!" He laughed again and walked away. Kendal went back to his chair.

He sat down and laughed. "Five years or even longer," he thought. "I did
very well when I kept some of my father's bad old notes and gave them to
A.B.C."
THE STORY WITH NO END

Lister put down his book. "I've finished that story," he said.

"Every story has an end," said Fuller. "When something happens, something
else always happens after it. But a writer always comes to the end. There's
always a place which makes a good end."
40

"that's nearly always true," said Lister, "but not always. I know a story which
never ends. It's always beginning."

"It can't begin for ever," said Fuller.

"Yes, it can. This is the story:

"Three men were sitting by a fire on the side of a hill. One of them began to
tell a story, and this is the story which he told:

"Three men were sitting..."

"Yes, I understand." Said Fuller. "But if you tell that story for a month, you're
not at the beginning then."

"Yes, I am. No one ever knows anything about the three men. And one of
them always began to tell a story. So I'm always at the beginning."