Canadian fiction; Maine -- Fiction; People with disabilities -- Fiction; Poor -- Fiction
"I pulled de stunt," said the Flopper in a croaking voice, "but de
kid--Doc--did youse see de kid? I got de shakes--it's like de whole of
hell an' de other place was loose, an' Helena's gone batty, an'--pipe
her, dere she is."
Into the room came Helena, her face like chalk--all color gone from even
her lips. She clutched at the window beside the Flopper for support.
"I'm frightened," she whispered. "We've gone too far--it's--it's--John
Madison, I'm frightened."
Madison did not speak for a moment--Madison was a consummate leader. He
looked, smiling reassuringly, from one to the other--and then leaned
soothingly, confidentially, in over the sill.
"I know how you feel--felt just the same myself for a bit," said he
quietly. "But now look here, you've got to pull yourselves
together--there's nothing to be afraid of. It's natural enough. It's
faith, Helena--and that's what we were banking on--only not quite so
hard. That kid and Mrs. Thornton annexed the real brand, that's all--and
when the genuine thing is on tap I cross my fingers and yell for
faith--there's nothing to stop it. And that's the way it's got both of
you too, eh? Well, that only makes our game the safer and the more
certain, doesn't it? So, come on now, pull yourselves together."
"In de last act when I was gettin' me head into joint," mumbled the
Flopper, "was when de kid yelled--I can hear it yet, an'--"
"Forget it!" Madison broke in a little sharply; then, tactfully, his
voice full of unbounded admiration: "You're an artist, Flopper--a
wonder. You pulled the greatest act that was ever on the boards, and you
pulled it as no other man on earth could have pulled it. Flopper, you
make me feel humble when I look at you."
"Swipe me!" said the Flopper, brightening. "D'ye mean it, Doc--honest?"
"Mean it!" ejaculated Madison. "You're the whole thing, Flopper--you
win. Come on now, Helena, buck up--we've got another little act due in
about fifteen minutes--don't let a lot of yowling rubes get your goat.
Why, say, we've got the whole show on the stampede--and we've got to
rush our luck."
"Sure!" said the Flopper. "Dat's de way to talk--leave it to de Doc
every time--. I ain't feazed half de way I was."
"I'm all right," said Helena a little tremulously. "What is it we're to
do?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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