When he came up, however, he discovered that the four figures were the Bluffer with One Punch, Gentle Maiden, and Iron Bender—and all four looked genial.
“There you are,” said the Bluffer, as Mal stopped before him. “Better climb into the saddle. It’s not more than two hours to full dark, and even the way I travel we’re going to have to move some to make it back to Humrog Town in that time.”
Mal obeyed. From the altitude of the saddle, he looked over the Bluffer’s right shoulder down at One Punch and Gentle Maiden and level into the face of Iron Bender.
“Well, good-bye,” he said, not sure of how Dilbians reacted on parting. “It’s been something knowing you all.”
“Been something for Clan Water Gap, too,” replied One Punch. “I can say that now, officially, as the Clan Grandfather. Guess most of us will be telling the tale for years to come, how we got dropped in on here by the Mighty Law-Twister.”
Mal goggled. He had thought he was past the point of surprise where Dilbians were concerned, but this was more than even he had imagined.
“Mighty Law-Twister?” he echoed.
“Why, of course,” rumbled the Hill Bluffer, underneath him. “Somebody’s name had to be changed, after you moved that stone.”
“The postman’s right,” said One Punch. “Naturally, we wouldn’t want to change the name of Mighty Grappler, seeing what all he means to the Clan. Besides, since he’s dead, we can’t very well go around changing his name and getting folks mixed up, so we just changed yours instead. Stands to reason if you could carry Mighty Grappler’s stone ten paces, you had to be pretty mighty, yourself.”
“But—well, now, wait a minute…” Mal protested. He was remembering what he had seen in the moment he had put the stone down and it had rocked enough to let him see clearly into the hole inside it, and his conscience was bothering him. “Uh—One Punch, I wonder if I could speak to you… privately… for just a second? If we could just step over here—”
“No need for that, Mighty,” boomed Iron Bender. “I and the wife are just headed back down to the village, anyway. Aren’t we, Gentle?”
“Well, I’m going. If you want to come too—”
“That’s what I say,” interrupted Iron Bender. “We’re both just leaving. So long, Mighty. Sorry we never had a chance to tangle. If you ever get some spare time and a good reason, come back and I’ll be glad to oblige you.”
“Thanks…” said Mal. With mixed feelings, he watched the harnessmaker and his new wife turn and stride off down the slope toward the buildings below. Then he remembered his conscience and looked again down at One Punch.
“Guess you better climb down again,” the Bluffer was saying, “and I’ll mosey off a few steps myself so’s not to intrude.”
“Now, Postman,” said One Punch. “No need for that. We’re all friends here. I can guess that Mighty, here, could have a few little questions to ask or things to tell—but likely it’s nothing you oughtn’t to hear; and besides, being a government man, we can count on you keeping any secrets.”
“That’s true,” said the Bluffer. “Come to think of it, Mighty, it’d be kind of an insult to the government if you didn’t trust me—”
“Oh, I trust you,” said Mal, hastily. “It’s just that… well…” He looked at One Punch. “What would you say if I told you that the stone there is hollow—that it’d been hollowed out inside?”
“Now, Mighty,” said One Punch, “you mustn’t make fun of an old man, now that he’s become a respectable Grandfather. Anybody knows stones aren’t hollow.”
“But what would you say if I told you that one is?” persisted Mal.
“Why, I don’t supposes it’d make much difference you just telling me it was hollow,” said One Punch. “I don’t suppose I’d say anything. I wouldn’t want folks to think you could twist me that easily, for one thing; and for another thing, maybe it might come in handy some time later, my having heard someone say that stone was hollow. Just like the Mighty Grappler said in some of his own words of wisdom—‘It’s always good to have things set up one way. But it’s extra good to have them set up another way, too. Two ways are always better than one.’”
“And very good wisdom that is,” put in the Bluffer, admiringly. “Up near Wildwood Peak there’s a small bridge people been walking around for years. There is a kind of rumor floating around that it’s washed out in the middle, but I’ve never heard anybody really say so. Never know when it might come in useful to have a bridge like that around for someone who’d never heard the rumor—that is, if there’s any truth to the rumor, which I doubt.”
“I see,” said Mal.
“Of course you do, Mighty,” said One Punch. “You understand things real well for a Shorty. Now, luckily we don’t have to worry about this joke of yours that the stone of Mighty Grappler is hollow, because we’ve got proof otherwise.”
“Proof?” Mal blinked.
“Why, certainly,” said One Punch. “Now, it stand to reason, if that stone were hollow, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as heavy as it looks. In fact, it’d be real light.”
“That’s right,” said Mal, sharply. “And you saw me—a Shorty—pick it up and carry it.”
“Exactly!” said One Punch. “The whole Clan was watching to see you pick that stone up and carry it. And we did.”
“And that proves it isn’t hollow?” Mal stared.
“Why, sure,” said One Punch. “We all saw you sweating and struggling and straining to move that stone just ten paces. Well, what more proof does a man need? If it’d been hollow like you say, a Shorty—let alone a mighty Shorty like you—would’ve been able to pick it up with one paw and just stroll off with it. But we were watching you closely, Mighty, and you didn’t leave a shred of doubt in the mind of any one of us that it was just about all you could carry. So, that stone just had to be solid.”
He stopped. The Bluffer snorted.
“You see there, Mighty?” the Bluffer said. “You may be a real good law-twister—nobody doubts it for a minute—but when you go up against the wisdom of a real elected Grandfather, you find you can’t twist him like you can any ordinary real man.”
“I… guess so,” said Mal. “I suppose there’s no point, then, in my suggesting you just take a look at the stone?”
“It’d be kind of beneath me to do that, Mighty,” said One Punch, severely, “now that I’m a Grandfather and already pointed out how it couldn’t be hollow, anyway. Well, so long.”
Abruptly, as abruptly as Iron Bender and Gentle Maiden had gone, One Punch turned and strode off down the slope.
The Hill Bluffer turned on his heel, himself, and strode away in the opposite direction, into the mountains and the sunset.
“But the thing I don’t understand,” said Mal to the Bluffer, a few minutes later when they were back on the narrow trail, out of sight of Water Gap Territory, “is how… What would have happened if those three Shorties hadn’t dropped in the way they did? And what if I hadn’t been sent for? One Punch might have been elected Grandfather anyway, but how would Iron Bender and Gentle Maiden ever have gotten married?”
“Lot of luck to it all, I suppose you could say, Mighty,” answered the Bluffer, sagely. “Just shows how things turn out. Pure chance—like my mentioning to Little Bite a couple of months ago it was a shame there hadn’t been other Shorties around to watch just how the Half-Pint Posted and Pick-and-Shovel did things, back when they were here.”
“You…” Mal stared, “mentioned…”
“Just offhand, one day,” said the Bluffer. “Of course, as I told Little Bite, there weren’t hardly any real champions around right now to interest a tough little Shorty—except over at Clan Water Gap, where my unmarried cousin Gentle Maiden lived.”