David Lannarck, Midget | Page 5

the little bears pushed out into a new world. They scrambled to a far corner, faced about, and waited for the next move.
"There they are," cried the midget enthusiastically, "black as midnight, fat as butterballs and ready for work." To be sure, the little salesman could not see up to the level of the cage floor, but his sales talk never ceased. "How much am I offered, men," he called out in a voice simulating an auctioneer. "How much for the two?"
"Now you jist cut out yer comedy until I can squint 'em over," said Fisheye impatiently. "Kin ye move 'em around a little, Mister?"
Welborn reached his hand through the bars and clucked to the little scared bruins. Hesitatingly they crept up to the extended hand and then sat up. They were surely butterballs as the midget proclaimed.
"You can't tell which is Amos and which is Andy. Can you, Fisheye?" challenged the salesman.
"Naw! I don't know 'em by name but that un is the oldest. In twins or even litters thar's one that's oldest. That un is the oldest, he starts to doin things fust. Now you jist tell me all over again, what's yer proposition about me owning these little b'ars?"
"Well, it is as I said. Mr. Welborn here will take your note for an even hundred for both bears. The note will be due Christmas. We can go right over to the ticket wagon and have Lew draw the note, payable at the Wabash Valley Trust Company for an even hundred, and the cubs are yours. And here's another thing," David motioned Fisheye over to another wagon and out of Mr. Welborn's hearing. "Here's the rest of the plan. I am going to offer this man Welborn ninety dollars for your note. He won't be bothered by having to send it to the bank, and he'll take my offer. There's where I come in; I make a ten spot without any investment."
"How come?" squawked the amazed Fisheye. "Ye don't own no bars, ye ain't out no cash, en ye draw a sawbuck. Now jist why can't this mountain man take ninety dollars in folding money offen me and cut out all this bankin' stuff. I don't want any note at the Wabash Valley nohow. They'd jist harass me into payin' it. Jist cut all that out and let him take the foldin' money."
"Well, maybe he will," sighed the super salesman. "But I thought as cheap as they were, I ought to have a ten spot out of it. But I resign in your favor. It's all among us folks anyhow. Just you go over and spot him the ninety and see if you win."
Fisheye went back of a neighboring cage to search himself for the needed cash. The salesman turned to Welborn who in the whole deal had said never a word. "It worked out all right," chuckled the midget. "Fisheye is saying spells over his bankroll and is kissing some of the tens and twenties a fond and reluctant farewell. He will offer you ninety dollars and you take it. It's better than I'd hoped. You see, Fisheye has his money sewed to him and it makes it hard to acquire. Some of it will be plastered together, for Fisheye hasn't taken a bath since part of the Barnum-Jenny Lind Special went off the bridge at Wheeling. The little bears will always know their Fisheye, day or night."
At this juncture Fisheye returned and counted down the cash. Two of the twenties and one ten, were printed in the early twenties.
"And now, Mister Welborn, we will have that cup of coffee and I must go to work. I want you to see the Kid Show and the Big Show as my guest. I'll have the boys park your machine and trailer right back of our show where it will be safe until you want it. After the main performance we will have dinner, say about four o'clock and we will call it a day."
"I think you should have this money," said Welborn as they drank their coffee. He handed Fisheye's keepsakes to David. "I did not expect anything and I am satisfied that the bears are in good hands."
"Not a cent," said David, waving the money aside. "I still owe you more than I can ever repay. Besides all this, we've done Fisheye a good turn. He'll have those cubs doing things before snow flies."
"He has always wanted a Happy Family Act, and now he's got a start. From time to time he will add native animals like foxes, raccoons, badgers, and maybe a porky or two and label them 'Native Americans' and sell them to someone, cage and all, before next season."
"Fisheye is versatile. Every winter he has a bunch of misfit dogs, and out of the