The Crimson Flash Part 6

"All right, let's have 'em."

"Let's see dat Liberty Bond."

"All right." The man dug into his inner vest pocket, produced a flat envelope from which he extracted a square of paper.

"Here it is."

s...o...b..ll inspected it closely. "Dat's all right, Mister. I git a dollar back."

The ticket seller peeled a one-dollar bill from a bulky roll and the deal was closed.

"Say, Mister," said s...o...b..ll, rolling his eyes, "I might buy another one, same price."

"Why didn't you say so?"

s...o...b..ll grinned.

Again the deal was closed.

s...o...b..ll put his hand into his left hip pocket and repeated his declaration:

"Say, Mister, I might buy jes' one more."

For a second time the man's eyes rested on him with suspicion lurking in their depths.

"Say, boy, who you buying these for?"

"Fo' me, mysef."

"All right, Mr. First National Bank, here you are."

The deal was quickly closed and s...o...b..ll hastened away, happy in the realization that he had accomplished the task set for him.

Making his way to the beach, he found Pant sprawled out on the sand, half asleep.

"Did you get them?" the white man asked drowsily.

"Ya-as, sir. Here dey is." s...o...b..ll held out the five bonds. "An' here's de change."

Pant sat up, suddenly all alert.

"You got three for thirty-nine?"

"Ya-as, sir."

"Let's have a look."

Pant's slender fingers trembled as he spread the five squares of paper out upon the sand.

"Good!" he muttered. "You got them all right. Now look at them all.

s...o...b..ll. See any difference in 'em?" He held a lighted match above the bonds.

s...o...b..ll studied them as intently as his roving eyes would allow.

"No, no, sir, I don't."

"These two. Look different, don't they?"

"No, no, sir; I can't say dat."

"You're blind," grunted Pant. "Two of them are paler than the others; ink is not so dark. See? Not quite."

"Oh, yas, ya-as, sir."

"Now those two pale face bonds were folded up with one other. Remember where you got them?" Pant's eyes flashed through his thick gla.s.ses.

"No, no, Oh, ya-as, ya-as, sir, I do. It were dat 'ere white man; sellin'

tickets, he was."

"Good! Now here's a dollar. That's for you. You'll get another when you come back. You take these two pale face bonds to the ticket seller and ask him where he got them."

"Ya-as, sir."

Full of wonder at the strange doings of this odd fellow with the black gla.s.ses, s...o...b..ll hurried back to the ticket seller.

"Say, Mister," he demanded, "whar'd y' git these pale face bonds?"

"What?" The man stared at him.

"Whar y' git 'em?" s...o...b..ll held them up for inspection.

"Let's see." The man made a grab for them.

"Nem' min'." The boy darted away.

"Who wants to know?" the man demanded gruffly.

"Me, myself."

"I can't tell exactly. I bought two from Tom Stick, the midget clown, three from Andy McQueen, the steam kettle cook, and two more from a bunco-steerer--feller with a bite taken out of his ear. I don't know which ones those are.

"Say, boy!" The expression on his face suddenly changed. "You let me have them bonds."

"No-o, sir!"

s...o...b..ll dashed away in sudden fright. With the ticket seller close on his heels, he dodged around a fat woman, nearly collided with a baby carriage, leaped the tent ropes. Like a jack rabbit, he scooted beneath the ponderous wagons on which rested the electric light plant of the circus, and, at last, dodging through the mess tent, succeeded in eluding his pursuer.

He was still breathing hard when he reached the place of rendezvous on the beach.