The Museum and many of the older buildings about the town had huge sky lights built into the roof. Les and his friends had found these sky lights to be of excellent use when looking for something to steal. Tonight was no exception as their attention was turned toward the vast collection of jewelry owned by the Museum.
As Phil and Andy tied off ropes and knotted them for max strength, Les worked with his glass cutter. Soon he was ready to descend down the rope and begin his quick but profitable robbery.
Down the rope went Les till his toes touched the linoleum floor. A good glass cutter in hand made the entry easy into the glass enclosures. The Curator' being frugal had alarm systems for those who might enter from the doorway's but did not wish to spend the extra money. Each case was wide open for the taking as Les carved one hole and then another. Soon enough his pillowcase was filled, up the rope he climbed to his laughing friends.
The next morning told to all the cheap alarm systems used at the Museum. Sarah's Uncle stood dumbly bye as the Police checked out any clues left around.
Detective Ambrose Martin walked about seeing the worst possible had happened. In one case was the remnants of a Plexiglas cube which had melted to soup from the powerful heat of the Brazilian Medallion.
"I gave it to you, your own Niece is somewhere out there, and then this happens. You've let out the most horrible power, God only knows who will be affected! Think of all those families torn apart by the loss of a member or members sent to live their lives in........huh!" grumbled Ambrose.
Pawn shops all over town were being offered first class jewelry for trade at ten cents on the dollar. Les and Andy were feeling the jingle of money in their pockets while back at the hideaway, Phil was fussing with what remained. The items were all small and easy to pawn but this one big piece nobody wanted.
Phil thought to impress his girlfriend and wear the silver chained necklace and it's huge charm over his shirt while on tonight's date. As he exited the building he spotted Officer O'Manion walking his beat and swinging his billy club just looking for a skull to crack.
One look and all eyes met, the chase was on as Phil ran and O'Manion blew on his whistle. Policemen came out of everywhere and Phil knew he'd be caught. A last ditch effort Phil ran and hid in Mister Lane's junkyard.
Mister Albert Lane, a colored man now old and white haired he drove his horse drawn cart about the city picking up what others tossed away. Today being Sunday he was at home having been to early Mass he had the day to rest from his labors. An afternoon snooze he laid out deaf to the world around asleep in a hammock.
Phil, winded from running saw the junk yard a good place to hide. The stench of old junk rusting and molding gave most of the Police reason enough not to enter. Yet Phil watched Officer O'Manion walk into the yard and begin looking about.
Phil had to hide but quick. Dodging the Cop he finally entered the small leanto where Mister Lane's trusty horse Lena stood. Looking around Phil saw either a pile of straw or the dung heap to crawl into. Kneeling down he looked and searched for a place to escape. Lena cared little for the sweaty youth to share her fare. Phil crouched down besides the mare as O'Manion got closer and closer.
"I got to hide! If O'Manion finds me he will either beat it out of me or sweat me down to telling of the gang's heist. I got to hide, I need to find a place the Cop would never look, but where?" Just then Lena whinnied. "Damn it horse, if I were your colt you'd not turn me in to that damned Cop! He's getting closer!" mumbled Phil.
Officer O'Manion took note of sleeping Mister Lane and sauntered over to poke the man with his billy club.
As O'Manion and Lane talked Phil continued to look for a hiding place. Patting the Mare's flanks and as she turned to see who touched her Phil wished. "I need to hide, I wish I was your foal right now, if just till O'Manion goes away and croaks!" said Phil.
Minutes passed as O'Manion sat down under the shade tree and talked with Mister Lane. Meanwhile in the leanto a Mare watched Phil. Wrenching this way and that Phil rolled around on the ground. His head was changing, grown longer, larger, his nos and mouth merged. Ears now taller atop his equine' head. Hair sprouted everywhere as the Clydesdale Mare looked down.
Moaning part from the pain of changing and part from the terror in his thoughts. His shirt ripped as jeans tore, a heavy chest spread his shoulders as his butt widened. The moan's grew louder as he watched in real fear his hands melt into hoofs. His feet too changed, getting long as legs hunched and toes became one black hoof for each leg.
A rocking struggle commenced as Lena bent down to help the new foal stand. A Mother horse's instinct set in motion as Lena licked her foal. Phil cared little for the bath but was engrossed in watching his changes. The whisking bushy tail interested him as he let loose his first high pitched neigh's.
The sounds coming from the leanto sent both men to look. Mister Lane stood shocked to see his old mare had dropped a foal. O'Manion laughed and slapped Mister Lane on the back. Now you have a replacement for when the mare gives out, geld the colt and let him serve you for another twenty years. I don't plan to retire for twenty more either!"
At the statement Phil looked up at the men and wondered about his wish. Then the instinctive urge took over and the only thought was for food. Phil shuddered mentally as his head reached up to nibble the dirty old teats of a mare now magically filled with milk.
Eight hoofs trampled the torn clothing into the mire of that leanto as Phil sucked up to two wonderful teats.