Wish me luck, my darling. I'll bring you back a trophy fromman earlier this year high up in the range and watched him for a couple of days without being seen, because he guessed what he was doing, and he was right, and the man turned out to be Russian, a spy. He didn't tell me more than that; I got the impression he bumped him off. But he described the thing to me. It's like a gap in the air, a sort of window. You look through it and you see another world. But it's
plan: take the archaeologists to their spot and go off by myself for a few days to look for the anomaly. If I bump into Nelson wandering about on Lookout Ridge, I'll play it by ear.
Later. A real bit of luck. I met Jake Petersen's pal the Eskimo, Matt Kigalik. Jake had told me where to find him, but I hadn't dared to hope he'd be there. He told me the Soviets had been looking for the anomaly too; he'd come across a of a tall rock shaped like a standing bear, and the position Jake gave me is not quite right—it's nearer 12" N than 11.not easy to find because that part of the other world looks just like this—rocks and moss and so forth. It's on the north side of a small creek fifty paces or so to the west the spirit world. I love you forever—kiss the boy for me—Johnny.
Will found his head ringing.
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