'Now hold your horses. Another few hours won't make any difference. I want a chance to examine this monster.
If you ask me, it slumbers by day and prowls by night. That gives us the rest of the day. Better start getting your things together. The tide should be well on the way out by now and we'll be able to get across the big creek easily.'
It was unusual for the bar-room of The Bull to be crowded so early in the morning. Usually for the first half-hour after Tom Southgate opened the doors he rarely saw a soul. A few drifted in for a pint and a sandwich around midday and then it went quiet again.
Not so this sunny autumn morning. Fishermen, whelkers, and local tradesmen all seemed to have taken the day off. Yet there was no holiday atmosphere in the place. Smiles were few and far between. Instead they were sombre and afraid.
'What the 'ell was it?' a small whelker croaked, turning to face the silent assembly. 'Musta come right by our cottage. Left a trail o' that filthy stinkin' stuff all down the lane. I see'd the slime with me own eyes. Not o' this world. Never. Not o' this world. You could smell it!' He paused. 'It smelt o'... the dead!'
'I reckon Glover knows sommat about it.' another one put in. 'Queer bloke. Spends most of 'is time out on the salt marshes. The trail led back out there. Besides,' and he leered, 'him and that bird-watcher bloke hated each other's guts. Glover's threatened to shoot him more than once. And now 'e's done it in a way so they can never pin any-thin' on 'im !'
'Rubbish!' Tom Southgate slammed an empty beer-mug down on the counter. 'You don't know what you're a-talkin' about Sam Slights! It's got nothin' to do with Glover, queer cuss as he is. Whatever killed Haywood is not of this world! And mark my words, it'll kill again... and again.'
'What're ye babblin' about, Tom?' one of the fishermen bawled out. Yet in spite of his dissent there was uncertainty in his voice. There's a maniac at large. You know that. We all know it. The police said so didn't they ?'
'Aye,' Southgate turned on the speaker. 'The police said so right enough. They had to. They don't want to spread panic do they? Treat us like children. Think it's best if we don't know.'
'Then what do you think's behind it all Tom?' someone else called out.
'Shall I tell you?' the landlord lowered his voice and leaned across the bar. Everybody became silent Fidgeted. Uncertain of themselves.
'Well,' he paused for effect, 'it's these treasure-hunters who are to blame!' He looked round. Murmers of astonishment 'It's them who've stirred it all up. Perhaps none of you know the old legend. King John's treasure shall remain hidden for all time. It is no man's to claim. It belongs to John himself. To the dead! A sea-monster guards it night and day. Yet if any mortal shall dig close to the treasure this beast shall rise and go forth to seek vengeance. That's what it did last night Only the bird-watcher happened to be handy. It wasn't satisfied though. Oh no! It had slept for seven hundred years and it must've been mighty hungry. It came up to the village but found nothin'. Everyone was indoors sleepin' and it couldn't get at 'em. But it'll come back. Just you mark my words. It'll come back!'
'Where'd you get all this from, Tom?' a man from the back of the room called out
'Me ole Dad,' was the reply, 'and 'e got it from 'is dad afore 'im, who got it from 'is dad afore 'im, who got...'
'Yeah. Well suppose this is what's happenin' right now. How d'we get rid o' the curse?'
There's only one way as I can see.' Tom Southgate thrust out his bearded jaw and glared at the whole company. 'We gotta get rid o' these bastards from out of that bloody blockhouse. Drive 'em away. Worse if we have to. We'll know no peace until they're gone from the marshes. Alive or dead!'
The going seemed even heavier than on the previous day as the party trudged across the soft saltings. Only Professor Lowson seemed tireless, as though some invisible force was driving him on. Time and time again Gavin had to quicken his own pace and help Liz along in order to keep up with him.
It was shortly after ten o'clock when they saw their excavations of the previous day a hundred yards or so ahead.
'Well, there she is!' Lowson shouted.
Liz halted. She felt a desire to run. Anywhere. Just to get away from this dreadful place and the horrors which it held. Gavin turned to her.
'Perhaps you'd better stop here,' he said. 'Sit down in the sun for an hour or two. I'll go on ahead with the Professor.'
She shook her head.
'No.' She forced a smile. 'I've come this far and I'll not leave you now. I'd sooner stick with you.'
They caught up with Lowson. The pile of mud still stood on the spike-grass like a miniature pyramid. Beyond it lay...
The smell of seaweed was strong in the air today, and Gavin breathed deeply until a sudden thought struck him. They shouldn't have been able to smell it. Instead this pleasant tangy aroma should have been nullified by the putrifying stench which would cause them to retch and vomit.
The air was fresh and sweet.
Gavin joined the Professor on the brink of the pit Liz hesitated and stood back a yard or so. They looked down.
Thick black oozing mud. A couple of inches of water which had failed to seep away. Apart from that... nothing!
'My God!' Lowson sank to his hands and knees and continued to peer into the empty hole. Here and there were faint traces of the greyish-green slime, disappearing fast. Nothing else.
'It's gone.' Gavin's expression was tense and strained. The Slime Beast has gone! '
'Well,' Gavin turned to Lowson, an expression of triumph on his face, Tm calling the tune now. Prof. I've given you your chance. Now there's only one course left open to us. There's a dangerous beast on the rampage. It's already killed once. The chances are it'll kill again unless something is done. I'm going right back to Sutton to inform Chief Inspector Harborne and then to telephone my colleagues at the British Museum.'
Professor Lowson looked at him for some seconds and then burst into peals of laughter. His mirth was uncontrollable, insane almost Bent double he cackled until a coughing fit finally turned his complexion a deep scarlet, then finally he spoke.
'You poor, poor fool!' His words lashed at Gavin with a venom which hitherto the young man had not suspected from this eccentric old man. 'Are you out of your mind? Even the police, who half suggested some horrific creature, will not believe you. They are seeking a homicidal maniac. Where is your proof? This slime melts into nothingness after a time. See, only traces remain hi this pit. In an hour they will be gone. Just because you claim to have seen this ... this Slime Beast as you call it You and Liz.. .'
'And you I' snapped Gavin angrily.
'Me?' The other was indignant. 'Me! I shall deny all knowledge of it Pure fantasy on the part of two very highly-strung imaginative people. You fool. Do you think I'm going to let a chance like this slip through my fingers?
The greatest scientific discovery of all time. Almost within my grasp! Do you think I'm going to step down so that others can take the credit?'
It was Gavin Royle's turn to laugh.
'You're the fool.' he retorted. 'You're the one who's living on fantasies. The Slime Beast has gone, man. It's on the rampage. You'll never get a chance to study it.'
'Oh no?' Lowson was more rational, scheming. 'I intend to find it, my friend. If I have to search the whole of this earth. I'll find it, somewhere. Furthermore, you two are going to help me. Go to the police and I'll have you put hi an asylum! You forget one thing. I am Professor John Lowson the greatest archaeologist in Britain, maybe the world. You two are nothing. A couple of kids helping me. Do you think your story would be believed against mine?'
'You might be one of the greatest archaeologists alive today,' Gavin snarled, 'but you're also a selfish scheming bastard! OK, so you hold the trumps. It can't do much without proof, I'll admit. Furthermore I'll help you locate the Slime Beast. But ... when, and if, we find it, don't rely upon either of us to go along with your schemes. I want to find it to safeguard mankind. For no other reason. If I can find a way to destroy it I will.'
They looked at each other in silence for some moments. Then Lowson nodded.
'On those terms then,' he leered, 'we are united. We are doing no good here obviously so the sooner we start back the better.'
GAVIN and Liz ate their supper in silence. Professor Low-son had shut himself away, once they arrived back at the blockhouse. He had not emerged since.
'Do you really think we shall see the Slime Beast again?' Liz asked as she began clearing the table.
Gavin shook his head.
'I wouldn't like to say,' he murmured. 'I wonder just where it's hiding out. After all there isn't a lot of cover on these salt marshes and mud-flats. It's either got to submerge itself hi the mud or be seen. Tomorrow we shall spend the day tramping up and down hoping to spot where it might have buried itself, but it's going to be hard work. Perhaps you'd better take the Land Rover into Spalding and spend the day there.'
'Not a chance.' Her mind was made up. 'Where you go, I go. No arguments.'
Gavin did his best to improve the security of the door before they retired for the night. Not that it would keep the Slime Beast out—just hinder it. Make a noise. He also saw that he had an ample supply of newspapers and a box of matches at hand.
'Anyway,' a sudden thought struck Liz as she pulled off her blouse and began unfastening her bra. 'Just supposing we do find the Slime Beast. What do we do? I mean we haven't got any weapons of any sort have we?'