It was the three-pigeon trick, Herbie knew from the previous performance, that required an assistant from the audience. It was almost the only trick he hadn’t been able to figure out. There must, he knew, have been a concealed compartment somewhere in that box, but where it could be he couldn’t even guess. But this time he’d be holding the box himself. If from that range he couldn’t spot the gimmick, he’d better go back to stamp collecting.
He grinned confidently up at the magician. Not that he, Herbie, would give him away. He was a magician, too, and he understood that there was a freemasonry among magicians and that one never gave away the tricks of another.
He felt a little chilled, though, and the grin faded as he caught the magician’s eyes. Gerber the Great, at close range, seemed much older than he had seemed from the other side of the footlights. And somehow different. Much taller, for one thing.
Anyway, here came the box for the pigeon trick. Gerber’s regular assistant was bringing it in on a tray. Herbie looked away from the magician’s eyes and he felt better. He remembered, even, his reason for being on the stage. The servant limped. Herbie ducked his head to catch a glimpse of the under side of the tray, just in case. Nothing there.
Gerber took the box. The servant limped away and Herbie’s eyes followed him suspiciously. Was the limp genuine or was it a piece of misdirection?
The box folded out flat as the proverbial pancake. All four sides hinged to the bottom, the top hinged to one of the sides. There were little brass catches.
Herbie took a quick step back so he could see behind it while the front was displayed to the audience. Yes, he saw it now. A triangular compartment built against one side of the lid, mirror-covered, angles calculated to achieve invisibility. Old stuff. Herbie felt a little disappointed.
The prestidigitator folded the box, mirror-concealed compartment inside. He turned slightly. “Now, my fine young man—”
What happened in Tibet wasn’t the only factor; it was merely the final link of a chain.
The Tibetan weather had been unusual that week, highly unusual. It had been warm. More snow succumbed to the gentle warmth than had melted in more years than man could count. The streams ran high, they ran wide and fast.