Speaker 1: Welcome to you stuff you should know from HowStuffWorks dot com.
Speaker 2: Hello everyone, Happy Halloween. That was Chuck there.
Speaker 1: Not the wind, no, but it's it as windy outside
Speaker 1: as you can tell, and rainy, and it's like kind
Speaker 1: of spooky.
Speaker 2: Yes, but fortunately, Chuck, we have a nice fire going
Speaker 2: here in our study.
Speaker 3: It is very nice in here.
Speaker 2: We're both wearing our best smoking jacket.
Speaker 1: Yep, felt like the oak would work. You've done it
Speaker 1: with the place. It's very nice. I feel very comfortable
Speaker 1: and it feels like a room to read scary things in.
Speaker 2: Well, that's precisely what we're about to do, Chuck.
Speaker 1: Then we waited for a stormy night too, which I
Speaker 1: think we've been waiting for like two weeks.
Speaker 3: Has been really lovely weather.
Speaker 2: Yeah. The timing could not be better.
Speaker 3: It's perfect.
Speaker 1: And I don't have to tell everyone this, but you
Speaker 1: all know it's midnight.
Speaker 3: Oh, yes, so we if you hear the clock strike,
Speaker 3: it is, Oh, there it goes. We're a little late.
Speaker 3: I thought I wanted to start reading right at midnight,
Speaker 3: but it's okay.
Speaker 2: We're still within the witching hour okay, which I don't
Speaker 2: think is necessarily midnight, but it's still scary.
Speaker 1: Yeah, well, now we have to wait for this thing
Speaker 1: to ding twelve times a noo. So are we gonna
Speaker 1: do the one by Gertrude Atherton first?
Speaker 2: I think we should. This is originally published by Old Gertrude, Yeah,
Speaker 2: as The Twins Old Gertrude. Yeah, they called her, you
Speaker 2: kind of have to.
Speaker 3: She was nineteen when she wrote that, right, what her name.
Speaker 2: Is Gertrude, so everybody called her Old Gert.
Speaker 3: Yeah.
Speaker 2: She published a thing called The Twins. That was the
Speaker 2: original name of this story, and I guess it didn't
Speaker 2: take off because about ten years later she renamed it
Speaker 2: The Striding Place.
Speaker 3: I like the Twins?
Speaker 2: Do you sure? I did too, until I found out
Speaker 2: that there is such a thing as an actual striding Place. Yeah.
Speaker 2: It's a real part in a real river in real life. Yeah,
Speaker 2: the War River right in Yorkshire.
Speaker 1: Yeah, this is uh, the waterfall kind of takes center
Speaker 1: stage here at the end of the story.
Speaker 2: Yeah, it's like boilet, it's a it's a we won't
Speaker 2: but I just want to explain because I did a
Speaker 2: little extra research, even on the Halloween story episode. Yeah,
Speaker 2: this river comes to a point where it's about as
Speaker 2: wide as a large stride. So apparently it beckons people
Speaker 2: just go ahead and jump. No reason to go walk
Speaker 2: to the bridge above or the bridge below, just jump over. Yeah,
Speaker 2: but it's also a very treacherous spot in the river.
Speaker 2: So Chuck, you want to start reading this one or
Speaker 2: do you want me to? It's up to you. I
Speaker 2: say we trade off because we have two stories this year.
Speaker 2: We didn't we didn't tell everybody yet. Oh yeah, we're
Speaker 2: doing two stories this year. Yeah, these are great.
Speaker 3: They were a little.
Speaker 1: Shorter, so we thought we'd double it up. I've had
Speaker 1: a little kangnac. I think I feel primed and ready
Speaker 1: to go.
Speaker 2: We've had a lot of kangyac.
Speaker 3: That's right, all right, So shall we set go in here?
Speaker 3: Has everyone dim the lights at home?
Speaker 2: Yes?
Speaker 3: If you're like I'm subway or something, then you.
Speaker 2: Should close your eyes safe.
Speaker 3: That's for another time.
Speaker 2: Close your eyes very tightly.
Speaker 3: Okay.
Speaker 1: The Striding Place by Gertrude Atherton. Weagle continental and detached,
Speaker 1: tired of early grouse shooting, to stand propped against the
Speaker 1: side fence while his host workmen routed up the birds
Speaker 1: and long poles and drove them towards the waiting guns
Speaker 1: made him feel himself a parody on the ancestors who
Speaker 1: had roamed the moors and forests of this west, riding
Speaker 1: of Yorkshire, and hot pursuit of game worth the killing.
Speaker 1: But when in England and August, he always accepted whatever
Speaker 1: proffered for the season, and invited his host to shoot
Speaker 1: pheasants on his estates in the south. The amusements of life,
Speaker 1: he argued, should be accepted with the same philosophy as
Speaker 1: its ills.
Speaker 3: It had been a bad day.
Speaker 1: A heavy rain had made them more so spongy that
Speaker 1: it fairly sprang beneath the feet.
Speaker 3: Whether or not the.
Speaker 1: Grouse had haunts of their own, wherein they were immune
Speaker 1: from rheumatism, the bag had been small. The women, too,
Speaker 1: were an unusual dull lot, the exception of a new
Speaker 1: minded debutante who bothered Weagle at dinner by demanding the
Speaker 1: verbal restoration of the vague paintings on the vaulted roof
Speaker 1: above them. But it was no one of these things
Speaker 1: that sat on Miagal's mind, as when the other men
Speaker 1: went up to bed, he let himself out of the
Speaker 1: castle and sauntered down to the river. His intimate friend,
Speaker 1: the companion of his boyhood, the chum of his college days,
Speaker 1: his fellow traveler in many Lands, the man for whom
Speaker 1: he possessed stronger affection than for all men, had mysteriously
Speaker 1: disappeared two days ago, and his track might have sprung
Speaker 1: to the upper air for all trace he had left
Speaker 1: behind him. He had been a guest on the adjoining
Speaker 1: estate during the past week, shooting with fervor of the
Speaker 1: true sportsman, making love in the intervals to Adeline Cavan,
Speaker 1: and apparently in the best of spirits. As far as
Speaker 1: was known, there was nothing to lower his mental mercury,
Speaker 1: for his rent roll was a large one. Miss Cavan
Speaker 1: blushed whenever he looked at her, and being one of
Speaker 1: the best shots in England, he was never happier than
Speaker 1: in August. The suicide theory was preposterous, all agreed, and
Speaker 1: there was this little reason to believe him murdered. Nevertheless,
Speaker 1: he had walked out of the march Abbey two nights
Speaker 1: ago without hat or overcoat, and had not been seen
Speaker 1: since the country was being patrolled night and day. One
Speaker 1: hundred keepers and workmen were beating the woods and poking
Speaker 1: the bogs on the moors, but as yet not so
Speaker 1: much as a handkerchief had been found. So this guy's
Speaker 1: best buddy is missing.
Speaker 2: Yeah, and it's really kind of weighing on his mind.
Speaker 1: It's bestie and he's he's hunting grouse and he's bored
Speaker 1: out of his mind.
Speaker 2: Yeah. It sounds like, yeah, well his mind is elsewhere.
Speaker 3: Well, lady Geez going on and on about the painting,
Speaker 3: the debute hunt. Yeah, do you blame him?
Speaker 2: Yeah? Okay, you're ready for more. Yeah. Weigel did not
Speaker 2: believe for a moment that Wyatt Gifford was dead, and
Speaker 2: although it was impossible not to be affected by the
Speaker 2: general uneasiness, he was disposed to be more angry than frightened.
Speaker 2: At Cambridge, Gifford had been an incorrigible, practical joker, and
Speaker 2: by no means had outgrown the habit. It would be
Speaker 2: like him to cut across the country in his evening clothes,
Speaker 2: boreed a cattle train and amuse himself touching up the
Speaker 2: picture of the sensation and west riding. However, Weagle's affection
Speaker 2: for his friend was too deep to companion with tranquility
Speaker 2: in the present state of doubt, and instead of going
Speaker 2: to bed early with the other men, he determined to
Speaker 2: walk until ready for sleep. He went down to the
Speaker 2: river and followed the path through the woods. There was
Speaker 2: no moon, but the stars sprinkled their cold light upon
Speaker 2: the pretty belt of water flowing placidly past wood in
Speaker 2: ruin between green masses of overhanging rocks, where sloping banks
Speaker 2: tangled with tree and shrub leaping occasionally over stones with
Speaker 2: the harsh notes of an angry scold to recover its equanimity.
Speaker 2: The moment the way was clear again, it was very
Speaker 2: dark in the depths where Weagle trod. He smiled as
Speaker 2: he recalled a remark of Gifford's in English.
Speaker 4: Wood is like a good many other things in life,
Speaker 4: very promising a distance, but a hollow mockery. When you
Speaker 4: get within, you see daylight on both sides, and the
Speaker 4: sun freckles the very bracken. Our woods need the light
Speaker 4: to make them seem what they ought to be, what
Speaker 4: they once were before our ancestors descendants demanded so much
Speaker 4: more money in these so much more various days.
Speaker 2: Weigel strolled along, smoking and thinking of his friend, his pranks,
Speaker 2: many of which had done more credit to his imagination
Speaker 2: than this, and recalling conversations that had lasted the night through,
Speaker 2: just before the end of the London season, they had
Speaker 2: walked the streets one hot night after a party discussing
Speaker 2: the various theories of the soul's destiny. That afternoon they
Speaker 2: had met at the coffin of a college friend whose
Speaker 2: mind had been blank for the past three years. Some
Speaker 2: months previously they had called at the asylum to see him.
Speaker 2: His expression had been senile, his face imprinted with the
Speaker 2: record of debauchery. In death. The face was placid, intelligent,
Speaker 2: without ignoble a lineation the face of the man they
Speaker 2: had known at college. Weigel and Gifford had had no
Speaker 2: time to comment there, and the afternoon and evening were full,
Speaker 2: But coming forth from the House of Festivity together they
Speaker 2: had reverted almost at once to the topic I cherish
Speaker 2: the theory.
Speaker 1: Gifford had said that the soul sometimes lingers in the
Speaker 1: body after death during madness. Of course, it is an
Speaker 1: impotent prisoner, albeit a conscious one. Fancy its agony and
Speaker 1: its horror. What more natural than that, when the life's
Speaker 1: spark goes out, the tortured souls should take possession of
Speaker 1: the vacant skull and triumph once more. For a few hours,
Speaker 1: while old friends look their last. It has had time
Speaker 1: to repent, while compelled to crouch and behold the result
Speaker 1: of its work, and it has shrived itself into a
Speaker 1: state of comparative purity. If I had my way, I
Speaker 1: should stay inside my bones until the coffin had gone
Speaker 1: into its niche, that I might obviate for my poor comrade,
Speaker 1: the tragic impersonality of death. And I should like to
Speaker 1: see justice done to it as it were, to see
Speaker 1: lowered among its ancestors, with the ceremony and solemnity that
Speaker 1: are its do I'm afraid that if I dissevered myself
Speaker 1: too quickly, I should yield to curiosity and hasten to
Speaker 1: investigate the mysteries of space.
Speaker 5: You believe in the soul is an independent entity, then
Speaker 5: that it and the vital principle are not one and
Speaker 5: the same.
Speaker 2: Is that a lady, No, that's a legal that's legal.
Speaker 3: Absolutely. The body and soul are twins.
Speaker 1: Life comrades, sometimes friends, sometimes enemies, but always loyal. In
Speaker 1: the last instance, Someday, when I am tired of the world,
Speaker 1: I shall go to India and become a Mahatma, solely
Speaker 1: for the pleasure of receiving proof during life of this
Speaker 1: independent relationship.
Speaker 5: Suppose you are not sealed up properly and returned after
Speaker 5: one of your astral flights to find your earthly part
Speaker 5: unfit for habitation. It is an experiment. I don't think
Speaker 5: I should care to try, unless even juggling with soul
Speaker 5: and fleshead.
Speaker 1: Paul, that would not be an uninteresting predicament. I should
Speaker 1: rather enjoy experimenting with broken machine. The high, wild roar
Speaker 1: of water smoked suddenly upon Weagle's ear, and checked his memories.
Speaker 1: He left the wood and walked out on the huge
Speaker 1: slippery stones which nearly closed the river wharf at this point,
Speaker 1: and watched the waters boil down into the narrow paths
Speaker 1: with their furious, untiring energy. The black quiet of the
Speaker 1: woods rose high on either side. The stars seemed colder
Speaker 1: and whiter just above. On either hand, the perspective of
Speaker 1: the river might have run into a rayless cavern. There
Speaker 1: was no lonelier spot in England, nor one which had
Speaker 1: the right to claim so many ghosts if ghosts there were,
Speaker 1: all right, man, So he basically was like, I can't sleep,
Speaker 1: I'm going to go look for my friend.
Speaker 2: Yeah, he's thinking a lot. He's thinking about his good
Speaker 2: friend Wyatt Gifford.
Speaker 1: Yeah, he's thinking of walking along the river. He's thinking
Speaker 1: about why God tortured him with that voice.
Speaker 2: Yeah, he didn't like his voice, but it's not he's.
Speaker 3: Not in the best of way right now. No, all right,
Speaker 3: are you ready to continue, sir?
Speaker 2: I'm prepared? You ready?
Speaker 1: Yeah?
Speaker 2: Weigel was not a coward, but he recalled uncomfortably the
Speaker 2: tales of those that had been done to death in
Speaker 2: the strid. Wordsworth's boy of Egremond had been disposed of
Speaker 2: by the practical Whittaker, but countless others, more venturesome than wise,
Speaker 2: had gone down into that narrow, boiling course, never to
Speaker 2: appear in the still pool a few yards beyond below
Speaker 2: the great rocks which formed the walls of the strid,
Speaker 2: was believed to be a natural vault, unto whose shelves
Speaker 2: the dead were drawn. The spot had an ugly fascination.
Speaker 2: Weigel stood, visioning skeletons, uncoffined and green, the home of
Speaker 2: the eyeless things that had devoured all that had covered
Speaker 2: and filled that rattling symbol of man's mortality. Then fell
Speaker 2: to wondering if anyone had attempted to leap the strid
Speaker 2: of late. It was covered with slime. He had never
Speaker 2: seen it look so treacherous. He shuddered and turned away,
Speaker 2: impelled despite his manhood to flee the spot. As he
Speaker 2: did so, something tossing in the foam below the fall,
Speaker 2: something as white yet independent of it, caught his eye
Speaker 2: and arrested his step. Then he saw that it was
Speaker 2: describing a contrary motion to the rushing water, an upward
Speaker 2: backward motion. Weigel stood rigid, breathless. He fancied he heard
Speaker 2: the crackling of his hair. Was that a hand? It
Speaker 2: thrust itself higher above the boiling foam, turned sideways, and
Speaker 2: four frantic fingers were distinctly visible against the black rock beyond.
Speaker 2: Weegle's superstitious terror left him. A man was there, struggling
Speaker 2: to free himself from the suction beneath the strid swept down,
Speaker 2: doubtless but a moment before his arrival. Perhaps as he
Speaker 2: stood with him back to the current. He stepped as
Speaker 2: close to the edge as he dared. The hand doubled,
Speaker 2: as if in eprocation, shaking savagely in the face that
Speaker 2: force which leads its creatures to a mutable low, then
Speaker 2: spread wide again clutching, expanding, crying for help as audibly
Speaker 2: as the human voice. Weigle dashed to the nearest street,
Speaker 2: dragged and twisted off a branch with his strong arms,
Speaker 2: and returned as swiftly to the strip. The hand was
Speaker 2: in the same place, still gesticulating as wildly. The body
Speaker 2: was undoubtedly caught in the rocks below, perhaps already halfway
Speaker 2: along one of those hideous shelves. Weegel let himself down
Speaker 2: upon a lower rock, braced his shoulder against the mask
Speaker 2: beside him, and then, leaning out over the water, thrust
Speaker 2: the branch into the hand. The fingers clutched it convulsively.
Speaker 2: Weegel tugged powerfully, his own feet dragged perilously near the edge.
Speaker 2: For a moment he produced no impression. Then an arm
Speaker 2: shot above the waters.
Speaker 3: The blood sprang to Eagle's head.
Speaker 1: He was choked with the impression that the striad had
Speaker 1: him in a roaring hold, and he saw nothing. Then
Speaker 1: the mist cleared, the hand and arm were nearer, although
Speaker 1: the rest of the body was still concealed by the foam.
Speaker 1: Eagle peered out with distended eyes. The meager light revealed
Speaker 1: in the cuff SLINKs of a peculiar device. The fingers
Speaker 1: clutching the branch were as familiar. Weagle forgot the slippery stones,
Speaker 1: the terrible death if he stepped too far. He pulled
Speaker 1: with pass will, and muscle muscles flung themselves into the
Speaker 1: hot light of his brain, trooping rapidly upon each other's heels,
Speaker 1: as if in the thought of the drowning. Most of
Speaker 1: the pleasures of his life, good and bad, were identified
Speaker 1: in some way with this friend. Scenes of college, days
Speaker 1: of travel where they had deliberately sought adventure and stood
Speaker 1: between one another and death upon more occasions than one.
Speaker 1: Of hours of delightful companionship, among the treasures of art
Speaker 1: and others in the pursuit of pleasure flashed like the
Speaker 1: changing particles of a kaleidoscope. Weagle had loved several women,
Speaker 1: but he would have flouted in these moments the thought
Speaker 1: that he ever had loved any woman as he loved
Speaker 1: Wyatt Gifford. There were so many charming women in the world,
Speaker 1: and in the thirty two years of his life, he
Speaker 1: had never known another man to whom he had cared
Speaker 1: to give his intimate friendship.
Speaker 2: So, Chuck, it sounds like he's pretty certain this is Wyatt. Yeah,
Speaker 2: his long lost buddy. He's in the foamy waterfall and
Speaker 2: he's trying to save him. Yeah, so this is getting intent.
Speaker 1: It's getting super intense, and it sounds like he really
Speaker 1: likes this guy in es, like he really wants to
Speaker 1: save his friend.
Speaker 2: Sure.
Speaker 1: He threw himself on his face. His wrist were cracking,
Speaker 1: the skin was torn from his hands. The fingers still
Speaker 1: gripped the stick. There was life in them. Yet suddenly
Speaker 1: something gave way. The hand swung about, tearing the branch
Speaker 1: from Eagle's grasp. The body had been liberated and flung outward,
Speaker 1: though still submerged by the foam and spray. Eagle scrambled
Speaker 1: to his feet and sprang along the rocks, knowing that
Speaker 1: the danger from suction was over and that Gifford must
Speaker 1: be carried straight to the quiet pool. Gifford was a
Speaker 1: fish in the water and could live under it longer
Speaker 1: than most men. If he survived this, it would not
Speaker 1: be the first time that his pluck and science had
Speaker 1: saved them from drowning.
Speaker 2: Weigel reached the pool, a man in his evening clothes
Speaker 2: floated on it. His face turned towards a projecting rock
Speaker 2: over which his arm had fallen upholding the body. The
Speaker 2: hand that had held the branch hung limply over the rock,
Speaker 2: its white reflection visible in the black water. Weigle plunged
Speaker 2: into the shallow pool, lifted Gifford in his arms, and
Speaker 2: returned to the bank. He laid the body down and
Speaker 2: threw off his coat, that he might be the freer
Speaker 2: to practice the methods of resuscitation. He was glad of
Speaker 2: the moment's respite, the valiant life, and the man might
Speaker 2: have been exhausted in that last struggle, he had not
Speaker 2: dared to look at his face, to put his ear
Speaker 2: to the heart. The hesitation lasted but a moment. There
Speaker 2: was no time to lose. He turned to his prostrate friend.
Speaker 2: As he did so, something strange and disagreeable smote his senses.
Speaker 2: For a half moment, he did not appreciate its nature.
Speaker 2: Then his teeth clacked together, his feet, his outstretched arms
Speaker 2: pointed towards the woods. But he sprang to the side
Speaker 2: of the man and bent down and peered into his face.
Speaker 6: There was no face, man, that was scary stuff.
Speaker 3: That's creepy. No face.
Speaker 2: Yeah, and the guy was struggling helping himself up. Yeah,
Speaker 2: clearly dead. Yeah, like they had spoken about previously in
Speaker 2: the short story. Yeah.
Speaker 1: And also you know he I think he was talking
Speaker 1: about the soul and the twins, like maybe this was
Speaker 1: his soul or something.
Speaker 3: I don't know.
Speaker 2: Yeah, I mean these guys were clearly related. Yeah, Gertrude
Speaker 2: said at least so that was the striving Place by
Speaker 2: Gertrude Atherton, and that was one of two. Yeah.
Speaker 3: She said that that was her favorite one she ever wrote.
Speaker 3: And so I can't disagree.
Speaker 2: Nice going, Gert, the old Gert, So chuck with's her.
Speaker 2: What's the next selection in our cozy, scary, creepy study
Speaker 2: the next.
Speaker 3: By the way, I appreciate the Halloween candy put out.
Speaker 3: That's a nice touch.
Speaker 2: I know. I sprung for the full size once. Forget
Speaker 2: that fun size crud.
Speaker 3: It's a little weird to eat Reese's pieces while I'm all.
Speaker 2: Creeped out, but they're still delicious.
Speaker 3: It's still delicious.
Speaker 1: So this one's called The Pale Man by Julius Long
Speaker 1: and it is from Weird Tales, Volume twenty four, issue
Speaker 1: number three. Weird Tales was a pulp rag a Chicago
Speaker 1: started in nineteen twenty three and has had several iterations
Speaker 1: over the years, including a modern one. You can still
Speaker 1: I think by it's something called weird Tales.
Speaker 3: You know, it's been shut down here and there over
Speaker 3: the years.
Speaker 2: Well, I know, I don't know if that's where he
Speaker 2: got to start, but he definitely supplied a lot of stories.
Speaker 2: HP Lovecraft, Yeah, weird tales. Totally love weird tales.
Speaker 3: Yeah, I kind of missed the old days like this.
Speaker 3: I mean, I know you have stuff like this on.
Speaker 1: The internet now, but it's kind of neat to be
Speaker 1: able to buy a little pulp thing for ten cents,
Speaker 1: you know, back in the nineteen twenties.
Speaker 3: Like I did. Alrighty, So this is The Pale.
Speaker 1: Man by Julius Long, with the subtitle A queer little
Speaker 1: tale about the eccentric behavior of a strange guest in
Speaker 1: a country hotel.
Speaker 2: Nice kind of describes it perfectly. There.
Speaker 3: All right, ready, has everyone got the lights? Do very important?
Speaker 2: Remember close your eyes on the subway.
Speaker 3: And get your brandy and your Resi's pieces up.
Speaker 2: And chuff Juffy Reese's pieces India Brandy.
Speaker 3: That might be nice. All right, here we go.
Speaker 1: I have not yet met the man in number two twelve.
Speaker 1: I do not even know his name. He never patronizes
Speaker 1: the hotel restaurant, and he does not use the lobby.
Speaker 1: On the three occasions when we passed each other by,
Speaker 1: we did not speak, although we nodded in a semi cordial,
Speaker 1: non committal way. I should like very much to make
Speaker 1: his acquaintance. It is lonesome in this dreary place. With
Speaker 1: the exception of the age lady down the corridor, the
Speaker 1: only permanent guests are the man in number two twelve
Speaker 1: and myself. However, I should not complain for this utter quiet.
Speaker 1: It is precisely what the doctor prescribed. I wonder if
Speaker 1: the man in number two twelve, too, has come.
Speaker 3: Here for a rest. He is so very pale.
Speaker 1: Yet I cannot believe that he is ill, for his
Speaker 1: paleness is not of a sickly cast, but rather wholesome
Speaker 1: in its ivory clarity. His carriage is that of a
Speaker 1: man enjoying the best of health. He is tall and straight.
Speaker 1: He walks erectly with a brisk, athletic stride. His pallor
Speaker 1: is no doubt conj else he would quickly tan under
Speaker 1: this burning summer sun. He must have traveled here by otto,
Speaker 1: for he certainly was not a passenger on the train
Speaker 1: that brought me, and he checked in only a short
Speaker 1: time after my arrival. I had briefly rested in my
Speaker 1: room and was walking down the stairs when I encountered
Speaker 1: him ascending with his bag. It is odd that our
Speaker 1: venerable bell boy did not show him to his room.
Speaker 1: It is odd, too, that, with so many vacant rooms
Speaker 1: in the hotel, he should have chosen number two twelve
Speaker 1: At the extreme rear. The building is a long, narrow
Speaker 1: affair three stories high. The rooms are all on the
Speaker 1: east side, as the west wall is flushed with a
Speaker 1: decrepit business building. The corridor is long in drab, and
Speaker 1: its stiff bloated paper exudes a musty and pleasant odor.
Speaker 1: The feeble electric bulbs that light it shine dimly, as
Speaker 1: from a tomb. Revolted by this corridor. I insisted upon
Speaker 1: being given number two oh one, which is at the
Speaker 1: front and blessed with southern exposure. The room clerk, a
Speaker 1: disagreeable fellow with a Hitler mustache, was very reluctant to
Speaker 1: let me have it, as it was ordinarily reserved for
Speaker 1: his more profitable transient trade. Wink wink, I fear my
Speaker 1: stubborn insistence has made him an enemy. If only I
Speaker 1: had been as self assertive thirty years ago, I should
Speaker 1: now be a full fledged professor instead of a broken
Speaker 1: down assistant. I still smart from the cavalier manner in
Speaker 1: which the president of the university summarily recommended my vacation.
Speaker 1: No doubt he acted for my best interests. The people
Speaker 1: who have dominated my poor life invariably have. Oh well,
Speaker 1: the summer's rest will probably do me considerable good. It
Speaker 1: is pleasant to be away from the university. There's something
Speaker 1: positively gratifying about the absence of the graduate student faiths.
Speaker 1: If only it were not so lonely. I must devise
Speaker 1: a way of meeting the pale man in number two twelve.
Speaker 1: Perhaps the room clerk can arrange matters.
Speaker 2: So this guy, he's a bit of a whiner.
Speaker 1: Yeah, he's like a little whiny assistant professor who was
Speaker 1: kind of.
Speaker 3: Told to go on vacation.
Speaker 2: It sounds like pretty much.
Speaker 3: And he took the room, the nicest room. Even though
Speaker 3: it sounds like that was saved for prostitutes.
Speaker 2: It was being saved by the man with the Hitler
Speaker 2: mustache for prostitutes.
Speaker 3: I get one of the transient trade, and that what
Speaker 3: he means.
Speaker 2: Yeah, but I think he's also saying here immense possible interpretation.
Speaker 6: Sure, but he appears to have settled.
Speaker 2: In for a very long stay.
Speaker 3: Yeah that's true.
Speaker 2: It might rather than like a traveling salesman.
Speaker 3: The brandy is getting to me. My mind's in the gutter.
Speaker 2: The Reese's pieces are getting to you.
Speaker 3: All right, So he wants to meet the man in
Speaker 3: two twelve. He something about this guy.
Speaker 2: He's also just pretty content to whine. It sounds like, yeah,
Speaker 2: that's true. May I please? Okay, I've been here exactly
Speaker 2: a week, and if there is a friendly soul in
Speaker 2: this miserable little town, he has escaped my notice. Although
Speaker 2: the trades people accept my money with flattering eagerness, they
Speaker 2: studiously avoid even the most casual conversation. I am afraid
Speaker 2: I can never cultivate their society unless I can arrange
Speaker 2: to have my ancestors recognized as local residents. For the
Speaker 2: last one hundred and fifty years, despite the coolness of
Speaker 2: my reception, I have been frequently venturing abroad. In the
Speaker 2: back of my mind, I have cherished hopes that I
Speaker 2: might encounter the pale man in number two eleven. Incidentally,
Speaker 2: I wonder why he has moved from number two twelve.
Speaker 2: There is certainly little advantage in coming only one room
Speaker 2: nearer to the front. I noticed the change yesterday when
Speaker 2: I saw him coming out of his new room. We
Speaker 2: nodded again, and this time I thought I detected a
Speaker 2: certain malign satisfaction in his somber black eyes. He must
Speaker 2: know that I am eager to make his acquaintance. Yet
Speaker 2: his manner forbids overtures. If he wants me to go
Speaker 2: all the way, he can go to the devil. I
Speaker 2: am not the sort to run after anybody. Indeed, the
Speaker 2: surly diffidence of the room clerk has been enough to
Speaker 2: prevent me from questioning him about his mysterious guest. I
Speaker 2: wonder where the pale man takes his meals. I have
Speaker 2: been absenting myself from the hotel restaurant and patronizing the
Speaker 2: restaurants outside. At each I have ventured inquiries about the
Speaker 2: man in number two ten. No one at any restaurant
Speaker 2: remembered his having been there. Perhaps he is entree into
Speaker 2: the brahm and homes of this town, and again he
Speaker 2: may have found a boarding house. I shall have to
Speaker 2: learn if there be one, the pale man must be
Speaker 2: difficult to please, for he has again changed his room.
Speaker 2: I am baffled by his conduct. If he is so
Speaker 2: desirous of locating himself more conveniently in the hotel, why
Speaker 2: does he not move to number two oh two, which
Speaker 2: is the nearest available room to the front. Perhaps I
Speaker 2: can make his inability to locate himself permanently as an
Speaker 2: excuse for starting a conversation. I see we are close neighbors. Now,
Speaker 2: I might say casually, but that is to banal. I
Speaker 2: must have waited a better opportunity.
Speaker 1: This guy is whinny. Yeah, he's like, well, I'm not
Speaker 1: gonna go chase this guy down. And then he's like,
Speaker 1: I wonder where he eats. He's just like sitting around
Speaker 1: thinking about him, and he's getting closer.
Speaker 3: And I don't think that's a good thing.
Speaker 2: No, I don't either. It's a peculiar behavior for a
Speaker 2: short story. Yeah, things like that kind of stand out.
Speaker 3: You know. This guy's like, oh, he's moving closer. How delightful. Yeah,
Speaker 3: what a dummy. He has done it again.
Speaker 1: He's now occupying number two O nine. I'm intrigued by
Speaker 1: his little game. I waste hours trying to fathom its point.
Speaker 1: What possible motive could he have? I should think he
Speaker 1: would get on the hotel people's nerves. I wonder what
Speaker 1: our combination bell hop chambermaid thinks of having to prepare
Speaker 1: four rooms for a single guest.
Speaker 3: If he were not stone deaf, I would ask him.
Speaker 1: At present, I feel too exhausted to attempt such an
Speaker 1: enervating conversation. I am tremendously interested in the pale man's
Speaker 1: next move. He must either skip a room or remain
Speaker 1: where he is for a permanent guest. The very old
Speaker 1: lady occupies number two O eight. She has not budged
Speaker 1: from her room since I've been there, and I imagine
Speaker 1: that she does not intend to.
Speaker 3: I wonder what the pale man will do.
Speaker 1: I await his decision with the nervous excitement of a
Speaker 1: devote of the track on the eve of a big race.
Speaker 1: After all, I have so little diversion. Well, the mysterious
Speaker 1: guest was not forced to remain where he was, nor
Speaker 1: did he have to skip a room. The lady in
Speaker 1: number two O eight simplified matters by conveniently dying.
Speaker 3: That ain't good.
Speaker 1: No, no one knows the cause of her death, but
Speaker 1: it is generally attributed to old age. She was buried
Speaker 1: this morning. I was among the curious few who attended
Speaker 1: her funeral. When I return home from the mortuary, I
Speaker 1: was in time to see the pale man leaving her room.
Speaker 1: Already he has moved in. He favored me with a
Speaker 1: smile whose meaning I have tried in vain to decipher.
Speaker 1: I cannot but believe that he meant it to have
Speaker 1: some significance. He acted as if there were between us
Speaker 1: some secret that I failed to appreciate. But then perhaps
Speaker 1: his smile was meaningless after all, and only ambiguous by chance,
Speaker 1: like that of the Mona Lisa. My man of mystery
Speaker 1: now resides in number two O seven, and I am
Speaker 1: not the least surprised. I would have been astonished if
Speaker 1: he had not made his scheduled move. I've almost given
Speaker 1: up trying to understand his eccentric conduct. I do not
Speaker 1: know a single thing more about him than I knew
Speaker 1: the day he arrived. I wonder whence he came. There's
Speaker 1: something indefinably foreign about his manner. I'm curious to hear
Speaker 1: his voice. I'd like to imagine that he speaks the
Speaker 1: exotic tongue of some far away country. If only I
Speaker 1: could somehow inveigle him into a conversation. I wish that
Speaker 1: I were possessed of the glib assurance of a college
Speaker 1: boy who can address himself to the most distinguished celebrity
Speaker 1: without batting an eye. It is no wonder that I
Speaker 1: am only an assistant professor. Man, this guy's really hung
Speaker 1: up on that.
Speaker 3: He showed the kind of moxy at work as he
Speaker 3: shows in this Man.
Speaker 2: Oh he shows in his head.
Speaker 3: Really yeah, maybe he'd be a professor by now. Jeseu.
Speaker 3: This guy hope somebody kills him. My money's on the
Speaker 3: tail man.
Speaker 2: It could. I was guessing it was the old lady
Speaker 2: in the other room, but she died. She got a chance.
Speaker 2: He knows what will happen.
Speaker 3: Maybe the chambermaid.
Speaker 2: Everybody wants to kill this guy, I do. I am worried.
Speaker 2: This morning, I awoke to find myself lying prone upon
Speaker 2: the floor, was fully clothed. I must have fallen exhausted
Speaker 2: there after I returned to my room last night. I
Speaker 2: wonder if my condition is more serious than I had suspected.
Speaker 2: Until now, I have been inclined to discount the fears
Speaker 2: of those who have pulled the long face about me.
Speaker 2: For the first time, I recall the prolonged hand clasp
Speaker 2: of the President when he bade me goodbye from the university. Obviously,
Speaker 2: he never expected to see me alive again. Of course
Speaker 2: I am not that unwell. Nevertheless, I must be more careful,
Speaker 2: Thank Heaven, I have no dependence to worry about. I
Speaker 2: have not even a wife, for I was never willing
Speaker 2: to exchange the loneliness of a bachelor for the loneliness
Speaker 2: of a husband. Burne, I can say in all sincerity
Speaker 2: that the prospect of death does not frighten me. Speculation
Speaker 2: about life beyond the grave has always bored me. Whatever
Speaker 2: it is or is not, I'll try to get along.
Speaker 2: I have been so preoccupied about the sudden turn of
Speaker 2: my own affairs that I have neglected to make note
Speaker 2: of a most extraordinary incident. The pale maid has done
Speaker 2: an astounding thing. He has skipped three rooms and moved
Speaker 2: all the way to number two zero three. We are
Speaker 2: now very close neighbors. We shall meet oftener, and my
Speaker 2: chances for making his acquaintance are now greater. I have
Speaker 2: confined myself to my bed during the last few days,
Speaker 2: and have had my food brought to me. I even
Speaker 2: called the local doctor, whom I suspect to be a quack.
Speaker 2: He looked me over with professional indifference and told me
Speaker 2: not to leave my room. For some reason, he does
Speaker 2: not want me to climb stairs. For this bit of information,
Speaker 2: he received a ten dollar bill, which, as I directed him,
Speaker 2: he fished out of my coat pocket. A pickpocket could
Speaker 2: not have done better. He had not been gone long
Speaker 2: when I was visited by the room clerk that worthy suggested,
Speaker 2: with a great show of kindly concern, that I used
Speaker 2: the facilities of the local hospital. It was so modern
Speaker 2: in all that, with more firmness than I have been
Speaker 2: able to muster in a long time. I gave him
Speaker 2: to understand that I intended to remain where I am,
Speaker 2: frowning sullenly, still retired. The doctor must have paused long
Speaker 2: enough downstairs to tell him a pretty story. It is
Speaker 2: obvious that he is afraid I shall die in his
Speaker 2: best room. The pale man is up to his old tricks.
Speaker 2: Last night, when I tottered down the hall, the door
Speaker 2: of number two zero two is a jar. Without thinking,
Speaker 2: I looked inside. The pale man sat in a rocking chair,
Speaker 2: idly smoking a cigarette. He looked up into my eyes
Speaker 2: and smiled that peculiar, ambiguous smile that has so deeply
Speaker 2: puzzled me. I moved on down the corridor, not so
Speaker 2: much mystified as annoyed. The whole mystery of the man's
Speaker 2: conduct is beginning to irk me. It is all so inane,
Speaker 2: so utterly lacking and motive. I feel that I shall
Speaker 2: never meet the pale man. But at least I am
Speaker 2: going to learn his identity. Tomorrow I shall ask the
Speaker 2: room clerk and deliberately interrogate him.
Speaker 1: So sounds like this guy's really relaxing. Oh it's a
Speaker 1: forced leave from work.
Speaker 2: He gets found up about stuff.
Speaker 1: All right, I'm ready for this to uh to happen
Speaker 1: one way or the other, bringing on home chuck hard
Speaker 1: to hearing this guy.
Speaker 2: Everybody's tired of hearing this guy.
Speaker 1: I know now, I know the identity of the pale man,
Speaker 1: and I know the meaning of a smile. Early this afternoon,
Speaker 1: I summoned the room clerk to my bedside. Please tell me,
Speaker 1: I asked, abruptly, who is the man in number two
Speaker 1: oh two?
Speaker 3: The clerk stared wearily and uncomprehendingly.
Speaker 2: M M, you must be mistaken that room is unoccupied.
Speaker 1: Oh but it is, I snapped in irritation. I myself
Speaker 1: saw the man there only two nights ago. He is
Speaker 1: a tall, handsome fellow with dark eyes and hair. He's
Speaker 1: unusually pale. He checked in the day I arrived. The
Speaker 1: hotel man regarded me dubiously, as if I were trying
Speaker 1: to impose upon him.
Speaker 2: But I assure you there is no such person in
Speaker 2: the house. As for his checking in when you did,
Speaker 2: you were the only guest we registered that day.
Speaker 3: But why I've seen him twenty times. First he had
Speaker 3: number two twelve at the end of the corridor, then
Speaker 3: he kept moving toward the front. Now he's next door
Speaker 3: number two O two.
Speaker 1: The room clerk threw up his hands. You're crazy, he exclaimed,
Speaker 1: and I saw that he meant what he said. I
Speaker 1: shut up at once and dismissed him. After he had gone,
Speaker 1: I heard him rattling the knob of the pale man's door.
Speaker 1: There's no doubt that he believes a room to be empty.
Speaker 1: Thus it is that I can now understand the events
Speaker 1: of the past few weeks. I now comprehend the significance
Speaker 1: of the death in number two O seven. I even
Speaker 1: feel partly responsible for the old lady's passing. After all,
Speaker 1: I brought the man with me, But it was not
Speaker 1: I who fixed his path. Why he chose to approach
Speaker 1: me room after room through the length of this dreary hotel.
Speaker 1: Why his path crossed the threshold of the woman in
Speaker 1: number two O seven, Those mysteries I cannot explain. I
Speaker 1: suppose I should have guessed his identity when he skipped
Speaker 1: the three rooms the night I fell unconscious upon the floor,
Speaker 1: in a single night of triumph, he advanced until he
Speaker 1: was almost to my door. He will be coming by
Speaker 1: and by to inhabit this room, his ultimate goal. When
Speaker 1: he comes, I shall at least be able to return
Speaker 1: his smile of grim recognition. Meanwhile, I have only to
Speaker 1: wait beyond my bolted door.
Speaker 3: The door swings slowly open.
Speaker 1: WHOA, that's got his Yeah, I have a feeling the
Speaker 1: pale man now resides in room to A one.
Speaker 2: I think he resides inside mister Julius long. Yeah, if
Speaker 2: that was autobiographical.
Speaker 3: He kind of sounds like the Slender Man.
Speaker 2: A little bit, you know, Yeah, I did know.
Speaker 3: Uh So that's it. Happy Halloween.
Speaker 2: Ever, let's have some more brandy, Chuck.
Speaker 3: I know, I feel like reading like six more of these.
Speaker 2: We don't have to not slur any longer.
Speaker 3: That's right, pour it up.
Speaker 2: All right, here you go, and some Reces pieces.
Speaker 1: Thank you, sir, very nice, All right, Joey Chuck Halloween tradition.
Speaker 2: Happy Halloween to you, Chuck.
Speaker 3: Happy Halloween to you. Happy Halloween to.
Speaker 2: Jerry, Happy Halloween, Jerry.
Speaker 3: While our listeners out there, be safe, be careful.
Speaker 2: And have a spectacular night.
Speaker 1: For more on this and thousands of other topics, visit
Speaker 1: HowStuffWorks dot com.