The black cat flowed down the stairs and onto the walk. Its feet soundlessly struck the stones and rose again in quick rhythm. It rounded the corner of the house with fluid grace and disappeared into the dark alley.
Jon sat still, not a muscle in his body quivered as the light of the pocket flash scoured the area around him with its radioactive beam. After a long while the guardsman went away, leaving all darkness again.
Jon closed his eyes and pressed the palms of his hands against them. Slowly he counted to sixty, then he re-opened his eyes. They adjusted instantly to the night. He reached into the darkness and picked up the small grey bag. Out of its mouth drooled a necklace of diamonds, striking the cement alley with a slight tinkle. He poured the remaining contents of the bag out onto the pavement and quickly re-estimated the value of his newly acquired wealth. Suddenly he sensed another presence and, covering his treasure with one dirty hand, he groped for his knife. He scooped the jewels into the bag.
A boot flew out of the darkness and crashed against his skull. The blow threw him off balance and he struggled vainly to remain upright. The newcomer followed up the blow, however, with another kick. Jon fell noisily among the trashcans, setting up a clatter that caused many lights in the upstairs apartments to flash on.
Jon drove at the shadowy attacker and grappled with him, finally succeeding in tearing the jewels away. The thief who would have robbed him hit Jon with his free hand; with the other he also sought control of the jewels.
The whistle of the guardsman sounded at the end of the alley and his lightbeam cut thru the darkness and brightly illuminated the pair. Jon caught a glimpse of red hair and a long white scar before he released the jewels and ran. His opponent fled in the opposite direction.
"Oh, Paul!" he shrilled as he ran. "Oh, Paul." The guardsman fired at the sound, missing, but causing the thief to quiet down.
Jon listened to the other's war-cry from his safe perch behind the garden wall. Just six feet away the jewels glittered in the moonlight. He stared at them wishfully. It was his night's total catch, besides which there would be his fingerprints on the bag.
Something bumped him on the elbow and he froze. Slowly he turned his head and gazed into a pair of unwinking yellow orbs. He relaxed.
"You back, boy?" he asked. The cat bumped its head against Jon's thigh and he reached down and scratched the feline's ears. "What have you got for me, boy?"
The cat opened his mouth and out flowed a green gaseous-like matter. The boy whistled soundlessly. The liqui-stone formed a little puddle and remained boiling internally.
Jon glanced out at the bag. The light of the guardsman's torch still shone between him and it. Quickly developing a plan, he pointed at the bag and whispered one word, "Fetch."
The cat faded into the night, padding wisely around the fallen light of the officer, and reached the bag. There he stood, for a second, indecisively. Then the guardsman returned from his fruitless search for the escaped thief.
The cat sensed its danger and sprang into action. Seizing the bag in its teeth it began running straight for Jon. Right into the light's beam.
The guardsman caught the flicker of motion and fired at the fleeing cat. The shot went wild and a section of the frail garden wall broke off and fell to the ground. Then the cat vanished into the night and the only living being was the guardsman.
Jon caught up with his cat a half temperus later. The animal's eyes glared brightly in the night, betraying its fear for the death which had been near. Slowly Jon coaxed his way up to the cat, watching it carefully in case it should take fright and flee. He stretched out a hand and let the cat identify him. The cat rubbed its head against his hand and relaxed. John picked him and the bag of loot up and started for their home.
Tiptoeing down the stairs to the cellar that served him as a base for operations, he glanced down at the stairs, making sure that they were clear enough for him to descend silently.
Jon slipped across the main "room" without a sound. Jacques lay sprawled across the table in a drunken stupor. Three wine flasks were strewn carelessly about the floor where Jacques had thrown them. Jon rounded his partition and lowered himself onto the bed. The frame groaned.
He snatched his bag of jewels and stashed them under the mattress.
"Jon?" inquired Jacques sleepily. "Ees that you, boy?"
"Yes! Go to sleep, Jac."
"Eh, Boy. What deed you brang me? Well, Jon?"
"I didn't have any luck tonight," Jon lied. "Lost all the jewels to a guardsman. And all because I was attacked by a thief."
"Jewels! Jewels, you say!" Jacques's accent disappeared as he grew excited. "Where are they, boy?"
"I said I lost them. Now go to sleep."
"You're lying," Jacques thundered from the doorway. "You're lying to me. Where are they?"
"I lost them," Jon said fearfully. "They're gone."
Jacques picked up the frail boy and shook him like a dog would a rat. "So you won't tell me?" He threw Jon against the wall and started tearing the room apart.
"Ah," he crooned as he found the bag. "Lost it deed you. You pay for your lie to Jacques. I not geeve you hany of thees jewels."
Jon rose from the floor and staggered to his bed. His cat hopped lightly up beside him and bumped his head gently against the boy's injured face.
"What is it, Alay?" addressing the cat by its name for the first time.
The cat opened its mouth and the liqui-stone poured out onto the bed. Jon gaped at it, then quickly poured it into a little hole, his secret hiding place. Having secreted the stone, he went to sleep.
[pp. 5 - 9, NO-EYED MONSTER #12, Summer 1967]
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