of him in the eating establishments or gambling dens. He
hadn’t been seen in some time in any of his usual haunts.
Jon-Tom finally found mention of him in one of the
more reputable rooming houses on the far side of town,
where the stink from the central open sewer was less.
The concierge was an overweight koala in a bad mood.
A carved pipe dangled from her lips as she scrubbed the
floor near the entrance.
“Hay, I’ve seen him,” she told Jon-Tom. Part of her
right ear was missing, probably bitten off during a dispute
with an irate customer.
“I’d laik to know where he gone to much as you, man.
He skip away owing me half a week’s rent. That not bad
as some have dun me, but I work hand to run this place
and every silver counts.”
“Only a few days’ rent, is it?” Jon-Tom squatted to be
at eye level with the koala. “You know where he is, don’t
you? You’re feeding me some story old Mudge paid you to
tell anyone who came looking for him because he paid you
to do so, because he probably owes everyone but you.”
She wrinkled her black nose and wiped her paws on her
apron. Then she broke out in a wide grin. “You a clever
one, you are, man, though strange of manner and talk.”
“I’m not really from around here,” Jon-Tom confessed.
“Actually my home lies quite a distance from Lynchbany.
Nor am I a creditor or bill collector. Mudge is my friend.”
“Is he now?” She dropped her scrub brush in the pail of
wash water and rose. Jon-Tom did likewise. She reached
barely to his stomach. That wasn’t unusual. Jon-Tom was
something of a giant in this world where humans barely