It was too much to figure out now. Bill gave up. Tomorrow, he would think the whole matter through. Meanwhile, there was the business of getting back to the village tonightand into a human-style bed at the Residency, which he was far from unwilling to do. Maybe Anita was right about his only having to ask Bone Breaker to let himself and the Bluffer out after hours.
He turned about uncertainly, peering through the night, and to his relief, discovered the lights shining out of the windows of the outlaw buildings like beacons, a little way off. He went toward them, and as he got close, he discovered that he was coming up on the rear of the main building. He swung out around the closer end of it and headed toward the front entrance.
As Bill approached, he saw a number of Dilbian figures standing in front of the entrance stepsamong them, standing a little apart, was the obese-looking figure of one who could only be the Hemnoid, Mula-ay, and with him two unusually tall Dilbians, one taller and thinner than the other, who should be Bone Breaker and the Hill Bluffer. Bill went up to them. As he got close, the large moon poked itself farther and farther above the mountain peak, and the silvery illumination in the fortified valley increasedso that by the time he stopped before all three of them, he was able to see their expressions clearly.
"Well, well, here he is," chuckled Mula-ay richly. "Did you find your little female, Pick-and-Shovel?"
"I spoke to her," replied Bill shortly. He turned toward the outlaw chief. "She suggested I could ask you whether you wouldn't let the Hill Bluffer and myself out of the gate, even if it has been closed for the night. I'd like to get back to the village before morning."
"She did?" answered Bone Breaker, with that same deceptive mildness of tone. It was impossible for Bill to tell whether the Dilbian was intending to agree or refuse to let Bill and the Bluffer leave. The Hill Bluffer chuckledfor no reason apparent to Bill. Mula-ay chuckled again, also.
"You mean," Mula-ay said, "you're going to go off and leave the little creature here, after all?"
Bill felt his ears beginning to grow hot.
"For the moment," he said, "yes. But I'll be back, if necessary."
"There you are!" said the Hill Bluffer happily. "Didn't I say it? He'll be back. And I'll bring him!"
"Anytime, Pick-and-Shovel," rumbled Bone Breaker mildly. "Just so it's in the daytime."
"Of course I'll come in the daytime," he said. "I wouldn't be leaving now, but after talking toahDirty Teeth, we decidedthat is, I decidedto get back to the village tonight."
"And why not?" trumpeted the Bluffer, in something very like a challenging tone of voice.
"No reason at all," said Bone Breaker mildly. "Take all the time you want. Come on, the two of you, and I'll see the gate opened and both of you let out."
The outlaw chief headed off toward the end of the valley where the wall and the gates were. The Hill Bluffer absently started after him, and Bill was forced to run in an undignified fashion after the Dilbian postman and jerked at the belt of his harness in order to alert the Bluffer to the fact that Bill could not keep up with his strides.
"Oh?sorry, Pick-and-Shovel," chuckled the Bluffer, as if his attention had wandered. He paused to scoop up Bill in his two big paws and plump him down in the saddle on his back. "You kind of slipped my mind for the moment . . . are you all set, up there?"
Bill replied in the affirmative and the Hill Bluffer once more started off after the Bone Breaker.
For the first time, Bill began to realize what kind of favor the Bone Breaker was doing by letting him out after hours. Opening the gate was far from a simple procedure. First the guards had to find torches of resinous wood and light them. Then with the help of Bone Breaker and the Hill Bluffer they removed two heavy cross-beams from the inner side of the gates. Finally, with a great deal of heaving, puffing, and shoving, the gates were forced to rumble open, squeaking and roaring as they each traversed on a sort of millstone arrangement, with one round wooden wheel rotating upon the flat surface of another. At last, however, the gates stood open.
"Well, good night and good traveling, Bluffer. You too, Pick-and-Shovel," said Bone Breaker.
Bill and the Bluffer returned the good night, and the Bluffer headed out into the patch of outer darkness beyond the gates and the reach of the flickering torches. As that darkness swallowed them up, Bill could hear the gates once more rumbling shut on the millwheel-like arrangement behind them, and over this rode a powerful shout, which could only have come from the lungs of Bone Breaker.
"Remember, Pick-and-Shovel!" he heard. "In the daylight!"
"What's the matter, Pick-and-Shovel," growled the Bluffer underneath Bill. "Aren't you going to promise him?"
"Oh" said Bill, startled. He raised up in his stirrups, turned his head, and shouted back as loudly as he could. "I promiseby daylight, Bone Breaker!"
The Bluffer chuckled. Behind them, Bill could see the outlaw chief nodding in satisfaction. Bill turned his head back toward the front, and sank down into his saddle, adjusting himself to the sway and plunge of the big body of the Hill Bluffer, striding beneath him. The lanky Dilbian postman said nothing except to chuckle once or twice to himself. Since Bill was too tired to inquire what the joke was, neither one of them said anything further, until they were once more treading the main street of Muddy Nose Village and the Residency loomed before them in the moonlight.
"All right, light down here," said the Bluffer, stopping abruptly before the Residency's front door. Bill complied.
"Are you staying here" Bill began, but the Bluffer was ahead of him.
"I'm off down to the Village Inn, myself," the Dilbian replied. "If you want me, that's where you'll find mefrom now until dawn, that is," grumbled the Hill Bluffer.
"WellahI'll probably have lots of things to keep me busy early in the morning here"
"You can say that, all right!" interrupted the Bluffer. "They say this blacksmith called Flat Fingers, here in the village, is a pretty good workman, but it's my guess you're going to have to stand over him all the time he's at it. Well, I'll stand there right beside you. We'll mosey up to his forge tomorrow morning and see what kind of promises we can get out of him."
"Flat Fingers?" echoed Bill, puzzled. "Blacksmith? What would I be wanting a blacksmith for?"
The Bluffer chuckled slyly.
"Why, to make you one of those sissy Lowlander fighting tools they call a swordand a shield, of course! You didn't think they had things like that just lying around so you could go pick one up when you needed it? You Shorties take too much for granted."
"Sword?" echoed Bill, by this time thoroughly confused. "Shield?"
"I don't blame you," said the Hill Bluffer, but chuckling again. "It'd gall me to the very bone, too, to have to fight with gadgets like that. But there's no choice." He paused, peering down at Bill in a way that was almost sly. "After all, you were the one who challenged Bone Breaker, so he's got choice of place and styleand you can bet he isn't going to tangle without his blade and buckler. Trust a Lowlander for that."
Bill stood, frozen, staring upward at the big furry shape of the Dilbian, looming over him.
"I challenged the Bone Breaker to a fight with swords?" he managed to get out, finally.
The Hill Bluffer released his inner glee in a sudden roar of laughter that shattered the sleeping silence of the darkened village.
"Thought you'd missed out on the chance, didn't you?" he sputtered, finally calming down. "I could have told you different as soon as we left the valley, but I thought I'd let you chew on your hard luck for a while first. Didn't I tell you you were lucky to have me? The minute I heard Bone Breaker say Dirty Teeth was staying there because she wanted to, I saw what was up. She'd got some female notion about not wanting you to tangle with Bone Breaker. That was it, right? So later on after you'd gone out to talk to her, I got Bone Breaker alone in a corner and put in a few good words."
"Good words . . . ?" echoed Bill, an uneasy suspicion beginning to form in his mind.
"You can bet I did," said the Bluffer. "I said it was a real shame you and he weren't going to be able to tangle after allespecially as you'd said you'd find it interesting, and I was sure he felt the same way. I pointed out that after all we didn't have to have a real spelled-out challenge, just as long as folks thought there'd been one. I said he could tell his folks you'd said to me that it was a lucky thing Dirty Teeth didn't need rescuing, because you could have taken him with one paw tied behind your back."
Bill gulped.
"And he could say," went on the Bluffer gleefully, "that the minute he'd heard this from me he told me that he'd never believed the story about the Half-Pint-Posted and the Streamside Terrorthat he didn't believe any Shorty could last two seconds with a man like himand he didn't mind if I passed the word along to you. And I did, and you challenged him, naturally, right away, swords or anything he wanted."
"Swords . . ." said Bill dazedly.
"I know how you feel," said the Bluffer with sudden sympathy. "Kind of sickening, isn't it, when a man's still got the teeth and nails he was born with? Anyway, we can get you one made, and the duel's on. Everybody knows about it by now. That's why Bone Breaker and I arranged for him to holler after you through the gate to come back in the daylight, and I nudged you to holler back you would, meaning you'd be around to tangle as soon as it was convenient, in daylight and in front of witnesses. But I agree with you about those swords. It's sure a measly way to fight."
The Hill Bluffer sighed heavily.
"Of course, maybe I shouldn't worry about it," he said brightening. "Maybe you Shorties like fighting with tools. You seem to use them for just about everything else. Well, grab yourself a good night's sleepand I'll see you at dawn!"