They opened the ruins to tourists at a dollar a head but they reckoned without The OLD MARTIANS.
beside one of the markers. "This is it," he said softly. I blinked at the marker, then at Herb. It wasn't the one he had singled out in the afternoon. Was he mixed up?
If he wasn't he was a good actor. He took out one of the dinner knives and squatted down and started to probe the soil, loosening it so that it could be scraped out by hand.
I watched him dig. Part of the time I helped him. We found nothing. After a reasonable amount of this Herb stood up with a resigned sigh. "Guess I was wrong," he said.
"Poor Herby," Dotty said.
"Yeah, poor Herby," Herb said with every appearance of tiredness and defeat. "But--that's that. Sorry to have gotten you all excited about nothing, Joe. Guess it was too much to expect anything." He turned to Dotty. "As long as we're out here, let's take a walk by ourselves. Huh?"
That was as obvious a cue as I had ever been handed. Neat. I was confronted with the alternatives of scramming or calling him a liar.
"Guess I might as well go bac
An interesting take on reincarnation, possession, haunting, and an attack by Martians. It kept me guessing. The writing is good, with some depth of characterization.