It was late, almost midnight. Only a few people were in the World of Stuff shop. Marshall and Simon sat at their table, eating french fries and drinking Cokes.

A grey-haired kid leaned over the table, his hand out. "Well? You got my $5, or what?"

Before Marshall could reach into his pocket, a man in brown robes came in.

He seemed a bit tired, like he had been on a long journey. He went up to the counter.

Mr. Radford turned around, walking to the counter, smiling. "Good evening. You look new here, what would you like?" He thought the man was strange, he looked like a monk of some kind.

The man nodded, "Hi. I'm Matthew Stragos, I've come from an order at St. Gregory's Monastery in Los Angeles. I hear you, ah..take rare artifacts as well as selling food."

Radford said, "That's right. Anything, either normal or unusual. We have collected quite a few, some from the citizens of our own town. Others..well, who knows where the stuff comes from."

"Well, I got something *very* interesting. A trumpet. Still works. But I hear it is also dangerous in the wrong hands. My friend, Thomas Dagget..he found it a few years ago, it was left behind. The owner, um..went south, you could say." He took a brass trumpet from his robe and set it on the counter.

Radford picked it up. "Thomas Dagget, huh? I remember him. Good kid. I heard he was a cop in LA, he went to Arizona for a few days. Some bizarre case about a teacher, a mysterious red-haired drifter.."

"Simon."

At that, Simon Holmes sat upright.

Marshall said to his friend, "It's nothing, Simon. I think he meant something else."

Radford said, "Oh! It also involved an Indian girl named Mary and her people, some old legends, a dead colonel called Hawthorne.."

Matt mumbled, "Yes. Arnold Hawthorne, a dark soul not yet Lucifer's."

"What's that? Didn't hear you."

He shook his head. "Nothing. I was just rambling."

"Hmm. This instrument looks fairly new. I'm sure we can find a place for it. Still works, right?" He put it to his lips.

The monk yelled, "No!!"

The three boys looked over at him.

Radford put it down, surprised. "What? What is it?"

The monk answered, "This trumpet is unusual, I wouldn't advise using it. It..does things."

Radford asked, "Really? What does it do?"

"Not sure. But I heard Thomas say that the one who owned it..he can make it do things, it was meant only for him. It was..perfect for his job."

"And who owned this thing?"

"Uh, let's see if I remember Thomas correctly.. ah! Gabriel."

"Gabriel, huh? Odd. Well, okay, I'll put Gabe's trumpet away." He went to the back, chuckling at the pun.

The monk sighed in relief and walked out the door.

Dash slapped the table. "Well?! Where's my damn money, Marsha?"

Marshall glared at him, not too happy with that remark. He pulled out a wrinkled $5 bill and gave it to him, slapping it into his palm. "There! Happy now?"

"Always." He walked out of the store saying, "Another day, another dollar." He remembered the description about that trumpet. Sounded pretty
destructive. He'd have to see if he could buy it sometime. Which means he'd have to help Mars with something BIG, share some info that he and that twerp Simon would need badly. Oh well.

When Dash was gone, Marshall said to Simon, "Hey. Did that guy seem a little weird to you?"

Simon said, "Of course! Dash is *always* weird."