Read Online If I Were You by L. Ron Hubbard - Free Book Online
Authors: L. Ron Hubbard
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Magic, Adventure stories, Circus, Circus Performers, Dwarfs
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third time the boots landed in his midriff, rolled his eyes whitely back into his head and went out cold.
Now that he was quiet, Tommy was able to retrieve the bankbook and the letter. One John Law had withdrawn so that the other could get their game, but now the other got a bitten hand and felt himself burned from the rear. He whirled and leaped away from the torch in Maizie’s hands.
Tommy handed book and letter to Mrs. Johnson. She could not understand immediately and did not really get the idea until Tommy roared, “All right, you two fumbling pachyderms! If you can get anything through your thick skulls, that’s the man you want—Hermann Schmidt!”
Mrs. Johnson looked from book and letter to the recumbent Schmidt, and then, as he was beginning to come around, she booted the red waistcoat once more.
“Get up, you thief! Get up! And as for you two, get that man out of here before I finish what Tommy started. Do you hear?”
Maizie was gazing at Tommy so hungrily that she almost missed the arena door. As he helped her through, she said in a choked voice, “I knew when you were you, Tommy. I knew. And when you jumped in through the bars—”
“Forget it,” said Tommy with a grin. “You were right and I was wrong. But I was right, too, you see, because . . . because . . . well, if the ghost of the Professor is around, I’ll bet he’s plenty disappointed. He did me a favor, Maizie. He showed me that I was a selfish fool, a coward. I’m ashamed of myself. I didn’t think of you at all when I started this. I won’t ever do it again, Maizie. Never . . . I promise!”
Maizie’s eyes were very bright.
“And you’ll come back and be satisfied to be—a freak?”
“No!” cried Tommy. “Who said anything about going back? Look up there, Maizie!”
She saw that they stood under the mike platform. She felt a movement at her side and, startled, saw Tommy run up the steps. She saw him tip over the mike so that he could get it down to his height and then, brazenly from the speakers, she heard his best spieling voice.
“Ladees an’ gennulmen! Whatevah may happen in a circus, the show must go on! And it gives me pleasure to present to you, for your entertainment, an attraction which we have brought to you at great expense.”
It was Tommy the Showman, Tommy at his best, doing what he had longed to do, realizing the ambition that had burned all these years in his frail but valiant little body.
Tommy was glowing, vivid, terrifically alive—and happier than he had ever been in all his life.
Maizie’s breath caught in her throat. Suppose that happiness should be taken from him! Suppose he lost it now, in the moment that fulfilled his long-cherished dream! It would break his heart if—
Bewildered by the turn of events, Maizie looked from Tommy to Mrs. Johnson, across the hoople. But Mrs. Johnson was looking at five thousand spectators whose attention was riveted upon a minute figure by the mike, a figure whose voice even more than his bravery, whose handsomeness even more than his smallness, commanded their every faculty!
And Mrs. Johnson, gazing back at Little Tom Little, had a look upon her face which clearly wondered why nobody had ever thought of this before. She saw Maizie, then, with questioning eyes upon her. And to Maizie Mrs. Johnson smiled and very slowly nodded her much wiser old head. . . .
The Last Drop
The Last Drop
E UCLID O’B RIEN’S assistant, Harry McLeod, looked at the bottle on the bar with the air of a man who has just received a dare.
Mac was no ordinary bartender—at least in his own eyes if not in those of the saloon’s customers—and it had been his private dream for years to invent a cocktail which would burn itself upon the pages of history. So far his concoctions only burned gastronomically.
Euclid had dismissed the importance of this bottle as a native curiosity, for it had been sent from Borneo by Euclid’s brother, Aristotle. Perhaps Euclid had dismissed the
Now that he was quiet, Tommy was able to retrieve the bankbook and the letter. One John Law had withdrawn so that the other could get their game, but now the other got a bitten hand and felt himself burned from the rear. He whirled and leaped away from the torch in Maizie’s hands.
Tommy handed book and letter to Mrs. Johnson. She could not understand immediately and did not really get the idea until Tommy roared, “All right, you two fumbling pachyderms! If you can get anything through your thick skulls, that’s the man you want—Hermann Schmidt!”
Mrs. Johnson looked from book and letter to the recumbent Schmidt, and then, as he was beginning to come around, she booted the red waistcoat once more.
“Get up, you thief! Get up! And as for you two, get that man out of here before I finish what Tommy started. Do you hear?”
Maizie was gazing at Tommy so hungrily that she almost missed the arena door. As he helped her through, she said in a choked voice, “I knew when you were you, Tommy. I knew. And when you jumped in through the bars—”
“Forget it,” said Tommy with a grin. “You were right and I was wrong. But I was right, too, you see, because . . . because . . . well, if the ghost of the Professor is around, I’ll bet he’s plenty disappointed. He did me a favor, Maizie. He showed me that I was a selfish fool, a coward. I’m ashamed of myself. I didn’t think of you at all when I started this. I won’t ever do it again, Maizie. Never . . . I promise!”
Maizie’s eyes were very bright.
“And you’ll come back and be satisfied to be—a freak?”
“No!” cried Tommy. “Who said anything about going back? Look up there, Maizie!”
She saw that they stood under the mike platform. She felt a movement at her side and, startled, saw Tommy run up the steps. She saw him tip over the mike so that he could get it down to his height and then, brazenly from the speakers, she heard his best spieling voice.
“Ladees an’ gennulmen! Whatevah may happen in a circus, the show must go on! And it gives me pleasure to present to you, for your entertainment, an attraction which we have brought to you at great expense.”
It was Tommy the Showman, Tommy at his best, doing what he had longed to do, realizing the ambition that had burned all these years in his frail but valiant little body.
Tommy was glowing, vivid, terrifically alive—and happier than he had ever been in all his life.
Maizie’s breath caught in her throat. Suppose that happiness should be taken from him! Suppose he lost it now, in the moment that fulfilled his long-cherished dream! It would break his heart if—
Bewildered by the turn of events, Maizie looked from Tommy to Mrs. Johnson, across the hoople. But Mrs. Johnson was looking at five thousand spectators whose attention was riveted upon a minute figure by the mike, a figure whose voice even more than his bravery, whose handsomeness even more than his smallness, commanded their every faculty!
And Mrs. Johnson, gazing back at Little Tom Little, had a look upon her face which clearly wondered why nobody had ever thought of this before. She saw Maizie, then, with questioning eyes upon her. And to Maizie Mrs. Johnson smiled and very slowly nodded her much wiser old head. . . .
The Last Drop
The Last Drop
E UCLID O’B RIEN’S assistant, Harry McLeod, looked at the bottle on the bar with the air of a man who has just received a dare.
Mac was no ordinary bartender—at least in his own eyes if not in those of the saloon’s customers—and it had been his private dream for years to invent a cocktail which would burn itself upon the pages of history. So far his concoctions only burned gastronomically.
Euclid had dismissed the importance of this bottle as a native curiosity, for it had been sent from Borneo by Euclid’s brother, Aristotle. Perhaps Euclid had dismissed the
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