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Then Baslim returned. His only comment was, "Why didn't you memorize it instead of recording?"
"Well, I did. But I was afraid I would forget something, there was so much."
"Hummph!"
After that Baslim seemed even quieter, more reserved, than he had always been. Thorby wondered if he had, displeased him, but it was not the sort of question Baslim answered. Finally one night the old man said, "Son, we never did settle what you are to do after I'm gone."
"Huh? But I thought we had decided that, Pop. It's my problem."
"No, I simply postponed it . . . because of your thickheaded stubbornness. But I can't wait any longer. I've got orders for you and you are going to carry them out."
"Now, wait a minute, Pop! If you think you can bully me into leaving you --"
"Shut up! I said, 'After I'm gone.' When I'm dead, I mean; not one of these little business trips . . . you are to look up a man and give him a message. Can I depend on you? Not goof off and forget it?"
"Why, of course, Pop. But I don't like to hear you talk that way. You're going to live a long time -- you might even outlive me."
"Possibly. But will you shut up and listen, then do as I tell you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You'll find this man -- it may take a while -- and deliver this message. Then he will have something for you to do . . . I think. If he does, I want you to do exactly what he tells you to
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