Read Online John Fitzgerald GB 06 Return of by Return of the Great Brain - Free Book Online

Great Brain got a bandanna handkerchief from his dresser drawer. He put it over his nose and tied it around in back of his head. Then he got a hat from the clothes closet and put it on.
    “Now, you two take a good look at me,” he said. “How do you know it is me?”
    “Who else could it be?” I asked.
    “Yeah, who else?” Frankie said.
    “If you didn’t know it was me,” Tom said, “how would you guess it is me?”
    “From the clothing you arc wearing,” I said, showing him I wasn’t a dumbbell-
    “Now imagine that I’m wearing clothing you’ve never seen,” Tom said. “How would you know it was me?”
    I stared at him for a couple of minutes. “The only way I could guess it might be you would be from the freckles on your high cheekbones and forehead. But lots of kids have freckles.”
    Tom removed the bandanna and hat. “This is a tough one,” he said, “but there has to be an answer.”
    Frankie got between us. “I’d know it was you even if you covered up all your face.”
    Tom dropped to his knees and put his hands on Frankie’s shoulders. “How would you know?”
    “By the scar on your hand,” Frankie said.
    Tom removed his left hand from Frankie’s shoulder and stared at it. He had given himself a nasty cut with a knife he was using to top beets from our garden before Frankie came to live with us. It had left a scar on the back of his hand about two inches long. He gave Frankie a little hug.
    “Thanks, Frankie,” he said. “Now we are getting some-where.”
     
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    The next day after school we went home and changed clothes. Eddie Huddle came over to play with Frankie. Tom and I sat on the back porch steps. I knew his great brain was working like sixty as he kept staring at the scar on his hand.
    “Got it!” he said, jumping to his feet. “I’m going to the barber shop. Maybe Mr. Forester can give me a clue.”
    “Can I come?” I asked.
    “If you keep your mouth shut no matter what I say,” Tom answered.
    Mr. Forester was alone in his barber shop when we got there. He was standing before the back mirror staring at his bald head. Papa sometimes joked about Mr. Forester because the barber bought every new hair tonic he saw advertised that was supposed to grow hair. But he still had just a fringe of hair around the edges and a big bald spot on top. For my money Papa had a lot of nerve, because our attic was filled with crazy inventions Papa had seen advertised and bought. And none of them worked.
    Mr. Forester had never been friendly with Tom because The Great Brain had swindled his son Danny so many times. But he was very friendly now believing Tom had reformed.
    “Hello, Tom and John,” he said. “I know you aren’t here for a haircut because I gave both of you a haircut just before school started. What can I do for you?”
    “We came to ask you a question to settle a bet,” Tom
    said.
    Mr. Forester frowned. “I thought you gave up betting when you reformed,” he said.
    Tom showed him the scar on his hand. “We aren’t betting money,” he said. “J.D, and I got to talking about peo-ple who have scars on their hands and faces. I bet him that
     
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    you could name ten men in town who had scars because you are a barber.”
    “I can name you several men who have scars on their races,” Mr. Forester said, “but not on their hands. I have to watch the scars on the faces of men I shave. Hal Benson has a scar on his right cheek, Fred Harvey on his chin, Matt Gillis just under his right eye. Jerry Stout on his cheek, Lem Carter a nasty scar on his throat, and Frank Collopy a scar on his nose. Reckon you lose the bet, Tom, because I can’t think of any more offhand.”
    “How about people living on farms and ranches?” Tom asked.
    “Let me see,” Mr. Forester said. “Peter Gunderson and Charlie Smedly have cheek scars. And Dave Ecord’s whole face is scarred. Got it from being kicked by a horse. Wonder it didn’t kill him. Gave a shave and a haircut to two