The World Shuffler Read Online Free PDF

sniffed the crisping patty as Swinehild lifted it onto a chipped plate, added the brownish egg, and slid it in front of him.
    “You did say ground hog?” he inquired dubiously, eyeing the offering askance.
    “Groundhog is what I said. More power to you, mister. I could never choke the stuff back, myself.”
    “Look here, why don’t you call me Lafayette?” he suggested, sampling the fare. Aside from a slight resemblance to library paste, it seemed to be tasteless—possibly a blessing in disguise.
    “That’s too long. How about Lafe?”
    “Lafe sounds like some kind of hillbilly with one overall strap and no shoes,” O’Leary protested.
    “Listen, Lafe,” Swinehild said sternly, planting an elbow in front of him and favoring him with a no-nonsense look. “The quicker you get over some o’ them fancy ideas and kind of blend into the landscape around here, the better. If Rodolpho’s men spot you as a stranger, they’ll have you strung up on a curtain stretcher before you can say habeas corpus, tickling your secrets out of you with a cat-o’-nine tails.”
    “Secrets? What secrets? My life is an open book. I’m an innocent victim of circumstances—”
    “Sure: you’re just a harmless nut. But just try convincing Rodolpho of that. He’s as suspicious as an old maid sniffing after-shave in the shower stall.”
    “I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Lafayette said firmly, scraping his plate. “The straightforward approach is always best. I’ll just go to him man to man, explain that I seem to have been accidentally shifted out of my proper universe by some unspecified circumstance, and ask him if he knows of anyone carrying on unauthorized experiments in psychical-energy manipulation. In fact,” he went on, warming to his subject, “he might even be in touch with Central himself. In all likelihood there’s a sub-inspector of continua on duty here, keeping an eye on things, and as soon as I explain matters—”
    “You’re going to tell him that?” Swinehild inquired. “Look, Lafe, it’s nothing to me—but I wouldn’t if I was you, get me?”
    “I’ll start first thing in the morning,” Lafayette murmured, licking the plate. “Where did you say this duke maintains his establishment?”
    “I didn’t. But I might as well tell you, you’d find out anyway. The ducal keep is at the capital, about twenty miles west of here as the buzzard flies.”
    “Hmmm. That puts it at just about the position of Lod’s H.Q. back in Artesia. Out in the desert, eh?” he asked the girl.
    “Nix, bub. The city’s on a island, in the middle o’ Lonesome Lake.”
    “Fascinating how the water level varies from one continuum to another,” Lafayette commented. “Back in Colby Corners, that whole area is under the bay. In Artesia, it’s dry as the Sahara. Here, it seems to be somewhere between. Well, be that as it may, I’d better get some rest. Frankly, I’m not as used to all this excitement as I once was. Can you direct me to an inn, Swinehild? Nothing elaborate: a modest room with bath, preferably eastern exposure. I like waking up to a cheery dawn, you know—”
    “I’ll throw some fresh hay into the goat pen,” Swinehild said. “Don’t worry,” she added at Lafayette’s startled look. “It’s empty since we ate the goat.”
    “You mean—there’s no hotel in town?”
    “For a guy with a chipped knob, you catch on quick. Come on.” Swinehild led the way through the side door and along a rocky path that led back beside the sagging structure to a weed-choked gate. Lafayette followed, hugging himself as the cold wind cut at him.
    “Just climb over,” she suggested. “You can curl up in the shed if you want, no extra charge.”
    Lafayette peered through the gloom at the rusted scrap of sheet-metal roof slanting over a snarl of knee-high weeds, precariously supported by four rotting poles. He sniffed, detecting a distinct olfactory reminder of the former occupant.
    “Couldn’t you find me