The Crimson Flash
“You’re the boy that’s so handy with his mitts?”

Johnny had a mind to run for it, but one look into those clear eyes told him this would be folly.

“That’s what they say,” he smiled.

“Shake! I like you for that.” The stranger extended his hand.

Johnny gripped it warmly.

“The way you handled that conman wasn’t bad; not half-bad. You’re a sport; a regular one! The circus boys like a good sport; the real chaps do. How’d you like a job?”

“A—a job?” Johnny stammered. “What kind?”

“Circus job.”

“What kind?” Johnny repeated.

“What can you do?”

“I—I—” suddenly Johnny had an inspiration. “Why, I’m the best little groom there is in three states. I could shine up those fat bareback horses of yours till you’d take them for real plate glass.”

“Could you? I believe you could, and you’re going to have a chance. Millie Gonzales’ three mounts have been neglected of late.”

Millie Gonzales! Johnny caught his breath. He had gone fishing and caught a whale the first cast. Millie Gonzales was one of the three circus girls at whose feet the diamond ring had dropped. Perhaps she was the one who had picked it up; who held it among her possessions now. He would know.

“When can I go to work?” he asked unsteadily.

“Right now. I’ll take you over to the stables. Stable boss’ll give you a suit and some unionalls. You shape up the three and have ’em ready for Millie by two o’clock, in time for the grand parade.”

“Of all the luck!” Johnny whispered into the ear of a sleek, broad backed gray a half hour later. “To think that I should have fallen into this at the very start! Perhaps Millie has it. Perhaps she’s wearing it on one of those tapering fingers of hers at this very moment. Is she, old boy? Is she?”


 Prev. P 16/98 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact