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Updated: August 14, 2024
And I'm as big as any bird in the neighborhood." "You're as big yes! And bigger than most!" Simon Screecher admitted. "But it isn't bigness alone that counts in the woods," he insisted. "What does count, then?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded. "You ought to be able to guess," said Simon Screecher. "It's right in front of your eyes." Turkey Proudfoot was a poor guesser.
Full size, 26-inch blade; good handle; what do you suppose it is worth?" "I know nothing of saws; I couldn't guess." "Yes, you can guess. You know whether it looks worth 5 cents or $5." "Well, say $1.50." "That's close. You are a good guesser on saws. I buy that of Disston for $3 per dozen." "What! A Disston saw?" "I didn't say a Disston saw.
"Maybe we could, maybe we could," said Grandfather thoughtfully. "We hadn't tried. Maybe that foolish mother took them back to where we got them. 'Twould be just like her. Let's go see." "Well," said Grandfather as he bent over the rubbish where the nest had been, "for a boy who had just come onto a farm, you're a pretty good guesser, my son. Look here!"
When she had gone on to explain, The Guesser's mind had boggled at her audacity at first. And then he'd begun to see how it might be possible. For it was not until then that the woman had given The Guesser information which he hadn't thought to ask about before. The first was her name: Deyla. The second was her job. She was a cleaning woman in Executive territory.
"Yes, sir," said the tense-faced Kraybo. "I admit my error, and I'm willing to take my punishment." The Guesser grinned wolfishly. "Well, isn't that big-hearted of you? I'm very glad you're willing, because I just don't know what I'd do if you refused." Kraybo's face burned crimson, but he said nothing. The Guesser's voice was sarcastically soft.
"Shut up!" When she had quieted, he said: "You are right, of course; we'd both be caught if you were to slip up. But I'm afraid it's too late to teach you now. It's always been too late." "Wha-what ... what you mean?" "Never mind. Where's the traveling case?" She pointed silently towards a shelf, one of many that lined the room. The Guesser went over and pulled out a box of cleaning dust-filters.
Once the law had been expressed, it could be tested and verified with the greatest ease; and, as usual, the discovery being made, it seems surprising that earlier investigators in particular so sagacious a guesser as Kepler should have missed it.
And the words were having their effect because she believed him, because he believed himself. "No," she was saying softly. "No, no, no." The Guesser brought up the gun muzzle and shot her where she stood. Half an hour later, The Guesser was fighting down his own fear.
Said Sails, "He's after that fellow in the Greaser's watch, or I'm a damn bad guesser. But, his game well, ask me something easy. Did you ever know anybody to fathom his game?" This I heard with one ear. At the same time my other ear was getting filled with different kind of talk. Aye, my post was between two conversations, and I found myself eavesdropping in two directions.
To compute such an orbit required a special type of human mind, and therefore a special type of human. It required a Guesser. The way a Guesser's mind operated could only be explained to a Guesser by another Guesser. But, as far as anyone else was concerned, only the objective results were important. A Guesser could "guess" the route of a moving ship, and that was all anyone cared about.
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