For Love of Mother-Not Read Online Free PDF

that weapon pointed away from me, please. Surely you don’t need the succor of technology in addition to superior numbers?”
    The shopkeeper hesitated and then turned the muzzle of his gun downward. But he did not put it away.
    Mother Mastiff stared at the man for a moment, then looked expectantly down at Flinx. “Well? Did ye see where he put the rings?”
    Flinx was gazing steadily at the bald man, those green eyes unwinking. “No, I didn’t, Mother. But he took them. I’m sure of it.”
    “Right, then.” Her attention went back to the offworlder. “Sir, I must ask ye to consent to a brief body search.”
    “This is most undignified,” he complained. “I shall lodge a complaint with my tourist office.”
    “I’m sorry,” she told him, “but if you’ve nothing to hide, it’s best that we’re assured of it.”
    “Oh, very well. Please hurry and get it over with. I have other places to go today. I’m on holiday, you know.”
    Acting uncertainly now, two of the men who had responded to Mother Mastiff’s whistle searched the visitor. They did a thorough job of it, working him over with the experience of those who had dealt with thieves before. They searched everything from the lining of his overcoat to the heels of his boots. When they had finished, they gazed helplessly over at Mother Mastiff and shook their heads.
    “Empty he is,” they assured her. “Nothing on him.”
    “What’s missing, Mother?” Aljean asked gently.
    “Kill rings,” she explained. “The only four kill rings in my stock. Took me years to accumulate them, and I wouldn’t know how to go about replacing them. Search him again.” She nodded at the bald man. “They’re not very big and would be easy enough to hide.”
    They complied, paying particular attention this time to the thick metal belt buckle the man wore. It revealed a hiddencompartment containing the man’s credcard and little else. No rings.
    When the second search proved equally fruitless, Mother Mastiff gazed sternly down at her charge. “Well, Flinx, what have ye to say for yourself?”
    “He
did
take them, he did,” the boy insisted, almost crying. “I know he did.” He was still staring at the bald man. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “He
swallowed
them.”
    “Swallowed—now just a minute,” the visitor began. “This is getting ugly. Am I to wait here, accused by a mischievous child?” He shook an angry finger at Flinx, who did not flinch or break his cold, green stare.
    “He took them,” the boy repeated, “and swallowed them.”
    “Did you see me take these rings?” the bald man demanded.
    “No,” Flinx admitted, “I didn’t. But you took them. You know you did. They’re inside you.”
    “Charming, the experiences one has on the slumworlds,” the man said sarcastically. “Really, though, this exercise has ceased to be entertaining. I must go. My tour allots me only two days in this
wonderful
city, and I wouldn’t want to waste any more time observing quaint local customs. Out of the kindness of my nature, I will not call upon the gendarmes to arrest you all. One side, please.” He shoved past the uncertain shopkeepers and walked easily out into the rain.
    Mother Mastiff eyed the man’s retreating back. Her friends and fellow merchants watched her expectantly, helplessly. She looked down at the boy. Flinx had stopped crying. His voice was calm and unemotional as he gazed back up at her.
    “He took them, Mother, and he’s walking away with them
right now.”
    She could not explain what motivated her as she calmly told Aljean, “Call a gendarme, then.”
    The bald man heard that, stopped, and turned back to face them through the now gentle rain. “Really, old woman, if you think I’m going to wait—”
    “Aljean,” Mother Mastiff said, “Cheneth?” The two shopkeepersexchanged a glance, then jogged out to bring the bald man back—if false restraint charges were filed, they would be against Mother Mastiff and not them.
    “I’m