David Lannarck, Midget | Page 5

an ready fer what
come."
"Well, get it open. Cut loose the trailer, Mr. Welborn, and we will back
it in by hand. Here, Happy, you and Joe help push this trailer in to
where Fisheye shows you. These cubs need initiating anyhow."
The trailer was unhooked and carefully backed in through a passage
laid out by the versatile Fisheye. A door was opened in one of the
unplaced cages and 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