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"
Ouch
!
The
words
ain
’
t
on
my
fingers
,
Doug
,
so
keep
the
match
away
.
"
"
There
!
"
cried
Douglas
.
And
there
it
was
,
a
faint
spidery
scrawl
which
began
to
shape
itself
in
a
spiral
of
incredible
corkscrew
calligrapher
’
s
letters
,
dark
on
light
.
.
.
a
word
,
two
words
,
three
.
.
.
"
The
card
,
it
’
s
on
fire
!
"
Tom
yelled
and
let
it
drop
.
"
Stomp
on
it
!
"
But
by
the
time
they
had
jumped
up
to
smash
their
feet
on
the
stony
spine
of
the
ancient
lion
,
the
card
was
a
black
ruin
.
"
Doug
!
Now
we
’
ll
never
know
what
it
said
!
"
Douglas
held
the
flaking
warm
ashes
in
the
palm
of
his
hand
.
"
No
,
I
saw
.
I
remember
the
words
.
"
The
ashes
blew
about
in
his
fingers
,
whispering
.
"
You
remember
in
that
Charlie
Chase
Comedy
last
spring
where
the
Frenchman
was
drowning
and
kept
yelling
something
in
French
which
Charlie
Chase
couldn
’
t
figure
.
Secours
,
Secours
!
And
someone
told
Charlie
what
it
meant
and
he
jumped
in
and
saved
the
man
.
Well
,
on
this
card
,
with
my
own
eyes
,
I
saw
it
.
Secours
!
"
