Castle of Terror
Page 4
I shall have you all flayed alive. Did not any of yourecognize the king of the giants as the one who was fighting thestranger? Now they are _bowling_ against us. And who among us canchallenge them?"
"I can, baby." Jenkins recognized that voice. It belonged to Griffin."Duck pins, ten pins or any other kind. I'll match my hook with the bestof them."
There was a short interval of silence. When Lucretia broke it, she spokein more natural tones: "It isn't the giants I'm worried about. I haveseen them bowl. They rely on strength only. The dwarfs are the ones I'mworried about. We beat them the last time because they used the man fromEarth and we got him drunk. They are cunning little men. Are you sure,my friend, that you have the skill?"
But Jenkins didn't wait to hear the answer. He knew Griffin had theskill. For Griffin, in his varied and checkered career, had once won anA.B.C. tournament. It was the clue by which he had been able to traceGriffin in his chase across the continent.
Jenkins peered into the hall. The men were all clustered around thewoman, listening intently to her words. Silently, he fled from thebanquet hall, and in a single leap crossed the open courtyard. Fromthere on he threw caution to the winds. Oddly enough he could havewalked, for not a single guard was to be seen even at the gate to thedrawbridge. Although the bridge was up, Jenkins didn't hesitate for aninstant. He dived in, and the waters of the moat closed over him.
But the moat was not wide, nor was it too deep. Ten strokes and he wasacross. The moon flooded the night with light, and his path was clearbefore him. After reaching the opposite bank, Jenkins started for thedepths of the forest. But just as he reached it an odd processionmarched out.
* * * * *
At the head were the three dwarfs Jenkins had first met upon recoveringconsciousness. Behind them streamed a host of other dwarfs. And fromwhat was evidently another path into the forest came another procession.Although this group was not as large in number, in size the men weregigantic. The two processions saw Jenkins at the same time, and bothgroups started toward him. Had it not been for the three little men,Jenkins couldn't imagine what fate might have befallen him.
"Ho!" shouted the dwarf called Loti. "It is the one who was taken to thecastle. Come, my friend, we go to the castle. To bowl. For the _goodwoman_ who rules there has made the mistake which might free us of herrule.
"She permitted one of our giant brethren to be killed by one of her men.And now we go to bowl against her champions. See, Mikas carries ourball."
Jenkins looked at the one to whom Loti had gestured, and saw that intruth the little man was carrying a bowling ball, a ball which was in noway different from those Jenkins had himself used in his world.
"Aye," Loti continued. "Now we have again the chance to rid ourselves ofher shackles."
The leaders of the giants had joined them while they were talking. Oneof them interrupted: "Aye. Loti is right. We sent the boulders downagainst them from the heights. Now we go to bowl."
Jenkins grinned as he started back for that castle of terror which he'djust quitted. He blinked in surprise when he saw that the drawbridge hadbeen lowered. The dwarfs and the giants were apparently expected, butthey would certainly be amazed to see him.
"You!" Lucretia exclaimed when she saw him. "How did you escape?"
He shrugged his shoulders and stared coldly into her beautiful eyes. Shefrowned back at him, then turned and motioned for her men to follow.Their way was lit by torchbearers, and led up a winding path which endedon a level bit of highland directly behind the castle. Here was grassland smooth as velvet; here were the grounds of combat, bloodless butjust as decisive.
There was a single alley, at the far end of which stood ten pins.Jenkins measured the alley with his eyes and figured it to be just aboutthe length of a conventional bowling alley. The backstop was built up ofearth and was soft enough so that the pins would not splinter onstriking it.
"We all know the rules," Lucretia said. "To the victor goes the rule ofour land. To the loser, slavery. Therefore, let us begin. Since I holdtitle, I choose to have my champion bowl last."
* * * * *
The giant's man bowled first against Loti. Just as Lucretia had said, hehad speed but that was all. Loti had a much slower ball, but one thatknocked down more pins on his hits. The giant got too many splits andrailroads to be able to beat the little man.
Then, after a short wait, Griffin took the alley against Loti. And fromthe first ball, Jenkins saw that the little man stood no chance.Griffin's hook worked beautifully on the velvet grass lawn. He literallyswamped Loti, whose shoulders slumped in weariness and discouragement asGriffin struck out.
"And so we remain slaves once more," Loti said, as the pin setter set upthe last rack. "Once, when the man called Rip Van Winkle bowled, Ithought we had a chance. But she got him drunk and we lost that match.Now this."
Lucretia was elated. As the last strike scattered the pins, she ran upto Griffin and planted a kiss on his lips.
"My champion!" she crowed. "Now we will take care of these big andlittle creatures once and for all. Once I was generous. Now I will beotherwise."
"Maybe!" Jenkins suddenly spoke. "But we're not through bowling. I amnow of the people here, and I challenge the winner of the two matches."
Loti caught up the other's words:
"He speaks true. He has the right to challenge."
"Is it true," Jenkins asked, "that the winner has the right to giveterms?"
"Aye," Loti said.
"Then let's bowl," Jenkins said.
He tried the grip of the ball Loti passed to him. It was a two-fingeredgrip, and just a little small. As the challenger, Jenkins had to bowlfirst. He measured the distance carefully, tried to figure the angleinto the pocket, took a three-step run and let his ball go in a mediumswing. The ball hooked in neatly, and left a four-seven split. A laugharose from Lucretia's followers. But silence fell among them as Jenkinsmade the pickup.
"Nice shot, copper," Griffin said, as he stepped up to bowl, and made astrike. From then on, they matched strikes to the eighth frame whenGriffin hit the head pin directly and got a seven-ten railroad. Hepicked up the ten-pin. Jenkins had gotten a nine count and made thespare.
* * * * *
In the ninth frame, Jenkins struck. Griffin stepped up, wiped his righthand carefully against the trousers he had donned, took aim with greatcare, and sent the ball down the side of the alley. It hooked in nicelyand again hit the head pin directly, only this time the six, ten, fourand seven pins were left standing. So badly shot was he by the badbreak, that he fumbled the ball as he started for his second shot. Buthe recovered quickly and neatly made the spare, the four pin barelygrazing the ten.
The score as they started the tenth frame was 206 for Griffin and 209for Jenkins.
Jenkins knew he had to mark at the least to win, and a double to make itclose if Griffin got a double. Minutes went by while Jenkins made hislast sight. Then he took three quick steps and let the ball go. But justas he reached the foul line, Jenkins slipped. The grass had become slickwith all the running being done on its surface. And the ball, instead ofhooking, went straight in, and left a very bad railroad, the four-ten.
Griffin's sigh of relief was the only sound to break the silence, asJenkins stepped up for his second shot. He knew there was but one chanceto make it, one chance alone.
If he could but get the ball over just right, it could make the fourslide over against the ten.
Thunderous roars rent the air, and piping screams of delight, as thegiants and the dwarfs saw the dreaded four-ten split made! The strikeJenkins hit for his last shot was an anti-climax. The score stood at 249for Jenkins.
"Nice shot," Griffin said as he stepped up. "But all I need is adouble." He threw, and the ten pins fell. His second ball was also astrike.
"And just to show you how good I am," Griffin declared, as he held theball for the last throw, "I'm going to make just four pins so you won'tfeel too ba
d."
Only he didn't! For what had happened to Jenkins, happened to him. Hisfoot also slipped on the grass, and this time he got three pins. Thescore was tied.
Suddenly Jenkins sat down, removed his shoes and stood erect. He wasn'tgoing to take a chance on his last ball, for that was the rule on a tie.One ball until the tie was broken, and a strike was just a strike. Therewas no question of what Jenkins threw the instant he released the ball.Right in the pocket!
Griffin's ball left the hard one, the ten pin. Griffin was stillstooped, his hands on his hips and his face forlorn, when Jenkins' handfell on his shoulder.
"I said I was taking you in, Griffin," Jenkins said. "And come hell orhigh water, I'm going to."
Griffin shrugged the hand off as he