John Fitzgerald Read Online Free Page A

to a team
of mules," he said.
        "And I will bet you do it," Papa
said with a laugh. Then his face became serious. "How are you fixed for
money, Alex?"
        "I was hoping you would ask," Mr.
Kramer said. "I could use the loan of twenty dollars until I get Mr.
Ferguson his team of mules."
        Papa took out his purse. He handed Mr.
Kramer four five-dollar gold pieces. Then he looked at me.
    "Mum's the
word, J.D.," he said.
        "Mum's the word," I said, knowing
Mamma wouldn't like Papa handing out twenty dollars to a man she believed to be
a swindler. And I couldn't help wondering what made Papa think he could trust
Mr. Kramer to pay him back.
        In a little while Mamma came into the parlor
with Aunt Bertha. She introduced Aunt Bertha to Mr. Kramer and then said that
dinner was ready.
        Papa was sure right about Mr. Kramer being
an interesting man. He had Mamma and Aunt Bertha eating right out of his hand
as he told them about the latest in ladies' fashions, and about some plays he'd
seen at the Salt Lake Theater his last trip there. But best of all were the
stories he told Papa and me later in the parlor while Mamma and Aunt Bertha
were doing the dishes. One of them I remember very well.
        There was an old prospector named Harvey
Reynolds who had been prospecting all over Colorado, Utah, and Nevada for many
years without ever making a strike. He had a claim he was working near Eureka,
Utah. One day he walked over to where another prospector named Gordon was
working a claim. He offered to trade his claim to Gordon for six sticks of
dynamite. The trade was made and Reynolds signed his claim over to Gordon. Then
Reynolds said he wanted to get some tools out of the shaft of his claim. Instead,
he went down to the bottom of the shaft, sat down on the six sticks of
dynamite, and touched them off, blowing himself to smithereens. Gordon heard
the explosion and ran over to the claim. He had to wait until the dust from the
explosion had settled. There wasn't much left of Reynolds when Gordon got to
the bottom of the shaft. But the dynamite blast had uncovered one of the
richest veins of gold ore ever discovered in Eureka. Harvey Reynolds was within
a foot of hitting this vein when he blew himself to kingdom come.
        The next morning I took a notebook with me
to school. Mr. Alex Kramer had given me an idea which would make me the richest
kid in Adenville and maybe in all of Utah. I figured
if an adult could trade up, so could a kid. During the morning and afternoon
recesses I talked to nine kids. When I came home from school I had the
following list:
     
    Howard Kay Wants
an Indian Suit and War Bonnet
    Jimmie Peterson
Wants a Cap Pistol and Holster
    Roger Gillis
Wants a Wagon
    Basil Kokovinis Wants an Air Rifle
    Parley Benson
Wants a Belgian Hare Doe Rabbit
    Frank Jensen
Wants an Indian Scout Knife
    Seth Smith Wants
a Genuine Indian Bow and Arrow
    Danny Forester
Wants a Riding Quirt
    Andy Anderson
Wants a Male Puppy
     
        I went up to my room to study the list. Mr.
Kramer had said all a trader had to do was to find something somebody wanted. I
knew what all these kids wanted. But I didn't know what they had that they
didn't particularly want or need. Then, as I studied the list, I saw how easy
it was going to be. I figured I'd start my trading with Howard Kay. My brother Tom's Indian suit and war bonnet were too small for
him but would just fit Howard. Mamma was a saver who never threw anything away.
She had just about everything Sweyn , Tom, and I had
ever worn stored in the attic. I went up to the attic. It took some rummaging
around, but I finally found the Indian suit and war bonnet stored in a box with
old cowboy suits and other things.
        Howard was sitting on the steps of his back
porch when I arrived.
        "Would you rather have an Indian suit
and war bonnet or your cap pistol and holster?" I asked him.
        He looked at me with a puzzled expression
on his pumpkin-like face.