All of Big Jim Ostby's attention seemed on the cigar as he lit it, but it was not. He observed the faces of the men who ed him by, and the figures of those across the street, and up and down the sidewalk. Satisfied, he moved on.

Ostby's six feet four, and two hundred thirty-five pounds, were not conspicuous on this other-dimensional world, where his size was but little above average. And only the sharpest observer would have noted the leashed aliveness of the instrument of sinew and muscle which was his body.

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