The Forgotten Door Read Online Free PDF Page B

exclaimed. “You’re really progressing, young fellow. Er, I don’t know how you made up to Rascal, but I think you’d better leave him where he is.”
    â€œHe — he promises to be good.”
    â€œOh, he promises, does he?” Thomas chuckled. “Well, some dogs can break promises the way people do. Maybe, tomorrow …”
    Little Jon turned away to hide his disappointment. He doesn’t understand, he silently told Rascal. But he will. Be patient, and tomorrow we will play together .
    He heard Thomas say to Mary, “Thank heaven he’s able to talk to us. Seems like a pretty bright kid, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find out a few facts about him.”
    â€œThomas,” Mary whispered, “I have something to tell you about his speech. Get a double grip on yourself and come into the house.”

He Makes a Discovery
    T HE NEXT MORNING, as soon as Brooks and Sally had gone to meet the school bus, Thomas Bean said, “Let’s all get down to some facts and see what we can figure out.”
    A study of the papers had yielded not the slightest clue, and it had been decided to save all further questions until this time, when they would have the morning to themselves. Little Jon had looked forward hopefully to this moment, yet he approached it with misgivings. His memory still told him nothing. And the Beans, much as he was beginning to love them, were still as strange to him as he was to them.
    â€œLet’s start with your clothes,” said Thomas, limping over to the table on which Mary had placed them. “They should tell us a lot. Is everything here?”
    â€œAll but my boots — and my knife and belt,” he said. “I’m still wearing them.”
    Mary Bean said, “His boots are woven of the same material as the rest of his clothes, only thicker. Even the soles.”
    â€œNo leather?” said Thomas.
    â€œThomas,” she said, “there isn’t a scrap of leather in anything he owns.”
    â€œLeather” was a new word. Little Jon asked about it, and was shocked when he learned. “But how — how can you kill another creature for its skin?” he exclaimed.
    â€œThat’s the way people live, young fellow,” Thomas said, frowning as he wrote something on a piece of paper. “Well, that’s another odd fact about you. I’m going to stop being surprised, and just jot down the facts. I learned in the Marines that if you get enough facts together, no matter how queer they may look alone, they’ll always add up to something.”
    The pencil in Thomas Bean’s hand moved swiftly as he intoned, “No leather. Doesn’t believe in killing things. Will not eat meat. Seems to know how to — to communicate with animals. H’mm. Clothes, all hand-woven. Material like linen …”
    â€œIt’s a hundred times stronger than linen,” Mary hastened to say. “The soles of his boots hardly show a sign of wear.”
    â€œVegetable fiber,” Thomas mumbled, writing. “Tougher than ramie. Dove gray. Designs on hem of jacket in tan and blue. Could be Indian or Siberian —”
    â€œBut they’re not,” said Mary Bean, “and I don’t see any sense in writing all that down when I know the answer.”
    â€œAnd what is the answer, Madame Bean?”
    â€œI — I’m not ready to tell you,” she said. “You should be seeing it for yourself. I think Jon sees it. Do you, Jon?”
    He was startled by her thought. “You could be right,” he told her slowly. “I almost believe you are — but I’m not sure yet. You’re better able to judge. You have your memory.”
    â€œHey, what’s all this?” Thomas asked curiously.
    â€œSkip it,” Mary told him. “You’re the fact finder. Have you listed his English as one of the facts?”
    â€œI’m listing it as a language that he