Manly Wade Wellman - John Thunstone 01 Read Online Free Page A

offices. There were a few sheep
keepers and market gardeners. They lived in Claines, it seemed, because they
had no wish or will to live anywhere else.
                 'That
big slope of ground they call Sweepside,” said Thunstone. “With the figure they
call Old Thunder. I’d expect it to be a promising place for archaeological
exploration.”
                “Perhaps so/* said Gates, “but it
belongs to Mr. Gram Ensley, who owns Chimney Pots. Who also owns and lets out
most of the houses in Claines. Mr. Ensley is fairly stubborn about allowing
investigation on his land. One group of antiquarians got stubborn, too, and he
got a court injunction against their coming. And he declined to talk to two
different enterprises who wanted to build factories on Sweepside. He won't even
rent land on Sweepside to people who would like to have market gardens there.
He has flocks of sheep, and they graze there, and that’s all.”
                 “What
about the residents here?”
                 “A
decent lot they are, for the most part,” Gates summed up. “Claines might have
been absorbed into Gerrinsford long ago except for the intervening swampiness,
but it has stayed a backwater, and it has its individuality. People work hard,
in Gerrinsford places or on what land they have, and they’re glad to be
decently quiet at home after dinner. Oh, the young men and women may get on the
bus and see a film in town, or otherwise amuse themselves there, but their
fathers and mothers are content to sit and watch the telly if they can afford
one. Some have the telly without truly being able to afford it. And this little
church of ours is a factor,” Gates went on, brightening. “Always good
attendance at services, and we have programs and festivals from time to time.
And a group of church ladies is active, visiting the sick, helping unfortunate
poor families.”
                 Gates
paused, frowning. Thunstone waited for him to continue. He continued:
                 “If I could turn a certain element from what must be considered
ancient paganism—ancient sorcery.” He gestured with a broad hand. “Up
there on Sweepside, this very day, they’re hard at it cleaning the chalky lines
of their superstitious Old Thunder figure.”
                 “And
this Mr. Ensley won’t let scholars explore there.”
                 “Not
he. He’s posted Sweepside. Nobody can go there without his permission. Though he allows the work on Old Thunder.”
                 “What
sort of man is he?”
                 “Courteous
enough, I must admit. He doesn’t attend church often, but from time to time he
makes a contribution. A substantial contribution. Otherwise, he keeps to himself most of the time. He might talk to you. Like me,
he's interested in Claines, and well he might be. He owns so much of it, both
sides of Trail Street ."
                “Why is it called Trail Street ?" was Thunstone’s next question.
                 “Because
there must have been a trail there before there was a street, I should think.
An old Roman road was traced along it by some survey or other. And a Roman road
was apt to have followed a road of people older than Romans."
                 “That’s
an interesting thought," commented Thunstone. He wrote busily, and again
Gates narrowed his eyes to watch.
                 “See
here, Mr. Thunstone," said Gates after a moment. “I’m going to ask you a
cheeky question, and you can answer it or not just as you wish. Are you here in
some sort of oEcial capacity?"
                 Thunstone
laughed easily as he wrote. “Not in the least. I came to England to do some private research into England ’s remote past. I’ve been to Stonehenge , Avebury, and so on. I’ve spent time in the
libraries at Oxford and Cambridge , and at the British Museum in London . You said