CHAPTER SEVEN
The Magnetic Stick
I GUESS JUST ABOUT EVERY KID in town sort of envied Parley Benson. His father let him have things no other kid could have. Parley wore a coonskin cap just like Daniel Boone. When Parley was ten years old, his father gave him a genuine bowie knife. So it was no surprise to us kids when Parley’s father gave him the first repeating air rifle ever seen in Adenville. Parley received the King air rifle for his birthday during the last week in July, right after Frankie had run away from home.
It was a beaut with barrel, handle, air chamber, plunger, piston, and all working parts made from brass and steel. It was so powerful it would shoot BB shot forty
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rods and kill rabbits and small game at fifty feet. It was the only repeating air rifle in town, and could shoot one hundred and fifty BB shots without reloading. Tom had a Daisy air rifle and I had a Quackenbush but we could only shoot one BB shot at a time.
Parley was showing off his air rifle to the kids at Smith’s vacant lot the afternoon of his birthday. After demonstrating it, he told us he was going hunting. Ev-ery kid who owned an air rifle decided to go hunting with Parley, except Tom.
“Does that mean you’ll look out for Frankie?” I asked.
“Yes,” Tom answered.
I knew from the conniving look on The Great Brain’s face why he wasn’t going hunting. He was going to put his great brain to work on how to swindle Parley out of the King air rifle.
Tom was very quiet after supper that evening. He sat reading one of the books from our set of encyclopedias. Even Papa was impressed with how quiet Tom was.
“What are you reading that is so interesting?” he asked.
Tom -looked up from the book. “I’m reading about Australia,” he said. “We studied a little bit about the country in geography at the academy. But I want to know more about the aborigines.”
“It is quite a country,” Papa said. “It was originally settled as a penal colony by Great Britain. The aborigines are among the most primitive people in the world.”
“I know al! that,” Tom said as if Papa had insulted his intelligence.
“Pardon me,” Papa said. “I thought J. D. and Frankie might like to hear about it.”
At any other time I would have liked to listen to Papa. But right then Frankie was going to beat me playing checkers if I didn’t concentrate good and hard.
“Some other time, Papa,” I said.
The next morning Tom disappeared-When he returned he was carrying what looked like a couple of branches from an oak tree. He took them up to his loft and pulled up the rope ladder. He wouldn’t let me come up or tell me what he was doing. And after lunch I’ll be a four-eyed bullfrog if he didn’t take Papa’s big, leather-bound dictionary, a rasp, and some sandpaper up to his loft. Tom stayed up in there all afternoon while Frankie and I went swimming. Tom also spent all the next day in his loft. The fellows at the swimming hole wanted to know if he was sick.
“Sick in the head,” I said. “I don’t know what he is doing but I’ll try to find out tonight.”
Tom was in the corral when Frankie and I arrived home-He showed us a bent piece of wood about a foot and a half long and sort of oval shaped.
“My great brain did it,” he said. “The first one I made didn’t work but this one does.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something no kid or adult in this town has ever seen,” Tom said. “It’s a magnetic stick.”
“You can’t magnetize wood,” I said.
“With a great brain, anything is possible,” Tom said. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”
And that is all he would tell me until Frankie and I had finished the chores the next morning. He jumped down from the top rail of the corral fence.
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“Go to Smith’s vacant lot and round up the kids,” he told me. “Tell them I’ve got a magnetic stick that I can throw in the air and make come back to me.”
“Like fun I will,” I said. “They will think you are crazy.”
“And that, J. D.,” he said, “is exactly what I want them to think. Just make sure Parley Benson is with you when you come back.”
I was so curious that I figured it was worth letting the fellows think Tom was crazy. I rode my bike to Smith’s vacant lot. Several kids were there, including Parley, batting fly balls and playing catch.
“I found out what Tom is doing,” I said as they crowded around me. “He says he has made a magnetic stick that he can throw in the air and make come back to
him.”
Danny’s left eyelid flipped open. “Nobody can magnetize wood,” he said.
“Tom says his great brain did it,” I said.
Seth Smith patted me sympathetically on the shoulder. “Pa always said that sooner or later people with great brains end up in the insane asylum,” he said.
All the fellows wanted to see what a fellow bound for the insane asylum looked like. They accompanied me back to the corral. The minute I saw Tom I knew Seth was right. The Great Brain was standing in the corral, rubbing his bent piece of wood with a magnet. Then he took it in his right hand and threw it into the air, pointing the magnet in his left hand at it. The stick went spinning straight over the corral and then fell to the ground.
Parley shook his head. “He’s gone plumb loco, for sure,” he said.
Danny called out, “What are you doing, Tom?” The Great Brain picked up the stick and walked over to the corral fence. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked with a wild look in his eyes. “I’m going to magnetize this stick so that when I throw it into the air and point a magnet at it the stick will return to me.”
All the kids backed up a few steps. I didn’t blame
them. Nobody wanted to get too close to an insane kid. Seth pointed at Tom.
“You had better see a doctor,” he said.
Parley nodded his head. “It’s the booby hatch in Provo for you, for sure,” he said.
“So you all think I’m crazy,” Tom said. “I’ll show you how crazy I am. Parley Benson. My great brain will figure out how to do it by one o’clock this afternoon.
And I’ll bet two dollars against your King air rifle that I can do it.”
.1 was by now just as convinced as the other kids that Tom’s great brain had blown a fuse. “Please don’t bet
him. Parley,” I pleaded. “He doesn’t know what he is say ing or doing.”
Danny slapped Parley on the back. “Go ahead and bet him,” he said. “Tom used his great brain to swindle me out of my infielder’s glove and to swindle you and every
other kid in town. Now that his great brain is sick, we have a chance to get even.”
“My great brain isn’t sick,” Tom said. “And I’m just as sane as any of you.”
Parley stared at Tom. “They say an insane person
will never admit he is crazy,” he said. “I don’t want to bet if you have gone insane.”
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“If I say I’m not insane,” Tom said, “then you think I am insane. If I say I am insane does that mean you will believe that I’m sane? All right. I’m insane. Now go ahead and bet.”
“Let me get this straight,” Parley said. “You are betting two dollars cash against my air rifle that you can throw that stick in the air and make it come back to you. Right?”
“Right,” Tom said. “I’ll stand at one end of the cor-ral and throw the magnetic stick. It will circle all around the corral and come back to me. If it doesn’t, you win two dollars. If it does, I win the air rifle. Is it a bet?”
“It’s a bet,” Parley said. “Go ahead and show me.”
“I need more time to magnetize the stick,” Tom said. “Be here at one o’clock and bring the air rifle with you.”
“I’ll be here,” Parley said.
I knew as I watched Parley and the other kids walk down the alley that Tom wasn’t insane. I knew because any time The Great Brain bet two dollars in cash, he knew he was going to win the bet. But I started having doubts when Tom went to the woodshed and chopped up the stick.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“Yeah, why?” Frankie said.
“That was the first one I made,” Tom said. “I didn’t get it shaped right, and that is why it didn’t work. But I’ve got one I made in the loft that does work.”
“Do you mean your great brain figured out how to magnetize wood?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Tom said. “I got the idea from reading about the aborigines in Australia. It’s called a boom—
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erang. I saw a picture of one in Papa’s big dictionary. The aborigines use them to hunt. They can throw them hard enough to stun or kill small animals.”
“How do the aborigines make the stick come back?” I asked.
“It is the way it is shaped,” Tom explained. “The spinning motion creates air currents that bring a boomerang back to where it was thrown from.”
“Then why all that mumbo jumbo about a magnetic stick?” I asked.
“That was a come-on to get Parley to bet,” Tom said. “If I’d told the kids I could use a knife, rasp, and sandpaper to shape a piece of wood so it would return when thrown in the air. Parley and the other kids might believe it could be done. All the kids know you can’t magnetize a piece of wood and that is why Parley bet me.”
At one o’clock Parley and a dozen other kids came down the alley to our corral. Parley had his air rifle with him. Tom handed Seth Smith two dollars.
“You hold the stakes and be the judge, Seth,” he said. Parley handed Seth the air rifle. Then Tom went into the barn. He came out carrying a boomerang in his right hand and a magnet in his left hand. He rubbed the magnet against the boomerang for a couple of minutes. Then, holding the boomerang with his right hand, he threw it with a swift motion into the air. He pointed the magnet in his left hand toward the boomerang. The spinning boomerang made a circle in the air above the corral for about fifty feet. It. came right back to where Tom was standing and dropped at his feet.
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Tom had told me what a boomerang was and yet I sat there with my mouth open, unable to believe what I’d seen. The other kids stared at Tom as if The Great Brain were the devil himself.
Tom picked up the boomerang- “And just to prove it was no accident,” he said, “I’ll do it again.”
He rubbed the magnet on the boomerang and then threw it into the air. He followed its circling motion with the magnet. The boomerang circled over our heads and again fell at Tom’s feet. He picked it up and walked over to us-
“I guess that proves I’m not insane like you all thought,” he said. “I’ll take the two dollars and the air rifle now, Seth.”
Parley jumped down from the railing. “Not until I make sure you used a piece of wood and not metal,” he said.
Tom handed the boomerang to Parley, who examined it closely.
“It looks and feels like wood,” Parley said, looking very disappointed.
“I’ll prove it beyond a doubt,” Tom said. He took the boomerang and tossed it into the water trough in our corral. “You can see it floats,” he said.
“You win the bet,” Parley said. “But the least you can do is give me the magnetic stick.”
“It is no good now that it is wet,” Tom said. “It cannot be magnetized again.”
Seth handed over the two dollars and the air rifle. “I’ll give you fifty cents to make one for me,” he said.
Tom shook his head. “It takes a special kind of wood,”
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he said, “and two days to make one. It wouldn’t be worth it tome.”
Danny touched Parley on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I talked you into betting,” he said.
Parley was a good loser. “You didn’t talk me into it,” he said. “Let’s go swimming.”
I watched the fellows walk down the alley. “Teach me how to make boomerangs,” I said to Tom. “I’m not a fellow who will pass up a chance to make fifty cents in two days. I’ll bet I could sell one to every kid in town.”
“If you started selling boomerangs,” Tom said, “the kids would all say that I swindled Parley.”
“They are going to say it anyway,” I protested, “when their parents tell them you can’t magnetize wood.”
Tom picked up the boomerang from the water trough. “Nobody will ever be able to prove this piece of wood wasn’t magnetized,” he said.
And he sure as heck was right because he went into the woodshed and chopped up the boomerang. Then we went swimming with Frankie. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for Parley as we sat on the sandy bank of the swimming hole. He told me that he would get the worst whipping of his life when his father returned from bounty hunting.
That made me begin to wonder about The Great Brain. Tom was the wealthiest kid in town. He had more money than some adults. He could have bought a King air rifle from Sears Roebuck and not even missed the money. But his money-loving heart wouldn’t let him spend a penny for anything his great brain could get him for nothing. I had always been jealous of his great brain
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but I wasn’t anymore. Parley was supposed to be Tom’s friend. I knew that I would never do anything to make my good friends, Jimmie Peterson or Howard Kay, get the worst whippings of their lives-CHAPTER EIGHT
The Good Raft Explorer
BY AUGUST OF THAT SUMMER I don’t believe Tom had one real friend left in Adenville. None of them came over to play basketball anymore. They all seemed to be trying to avoid him. And there wasn’t a kid left in town who would make a trade or a bet with The Great Brain. I sure as heck didn’t blame them. After the swindles Tom had pulled off that summer, a fellow would have to have cabbages growing out of his head to bet or trade with The Great Brain.
But what the kids didn’t know was that betting, trad-ing, conniving, and swindling were to Tom what food and water was to them. I felt so sorry for Tom that I al-
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most decided to let him swindle me out of something just so he could keep in practice.
We were sitting on the riverbank’by the swimming hole one afternoon, keeping an eye on Frankie and” Eddie Huddle. Tom looked like the fellow who lost his horse, his dog, and his best friend all at the same time.
“If I don’t put my great brain to work on something,” he complained, “it will start shriveling up.”
“You sure as heck can’t blame the fellows,” I said. “When a kid sticks his head in a hole and gets whacked on the head with a club every time, he soon learns not to go around sticking his head in strange holes.” I thought that was pretty darn clever but Tom didn’t.
“There must be something I can put my great brain to work on and make some money,” he said. “What would you like to do that you’ve never done before?”
“Fly like a bird,” I said, quick as a flash.
“You know that is impossible,” he said.
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “You’ve told me plenty of times that nothing is impossible with a great brain.”
That night after supper I was sitting on the floor in the parlor reading Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain to Frankie. Tom was studying the World Almanac. I was reading the part in the book about the trip down the river on the raft. Tom stopped reading and listened until it was time for Frankie and me to go to bed.
The next morning, while we were getting dressed, Tom asked me, “How would you like to go exploring on the river on a raft, like Huckleberry Finn?”
“Oh, boy,” I said, “that would be a great adventure.”
“Would you be willing to pay for it?” he asked.
“Sure,” I answered. “How much would depend on how long the trip took.”
“Say it took from half an hour to forty-five minutes,” he said. “How much would you pay?”
“At least a nickel,” I said. “Why?”
“I’m going to build a raft,” he said, “and run exploring excursions on the river.”
Eddie Huddle came over to play with Frankie just as the morning chores were finished. Tom saddled up Dusty and asked me if I wanted to take a ride with him. I got up behind him on the mustang. We rode to the swimming hole.
“I’ll start the excursion on the raft from here,” he.. said. “But now I have to find out how far downstream to go.”
We rode Dusty along the riverbank until we came to the rapids. It was a place where the riverbed dropped, causing the current to flow swiftly. I pointed at the rapids.
“You will never get a raft upstream through those rapids,” I said.
“I’ll have to bring it back over land,” he said. “Now to find a good landing place.”
We rode until we came to a big bend in the river. Just around the bend the river became twice as wide and the current slow. We rode Dusty across the river and back to find out how deep it was. It was only about two feet deep all the way across.
“This will be the landing place,” Tom said. “I figure the trip from the swimming hole to here on a raft would take about half an hour.”
We returned home for lunch. After eating, Tom harnessed up the mare of our team.
“What are you going to do with Bess?” I asked.
“I need her to pull logs for my raft,” Tom answered.
“Can I go with you?” I asked.
“Not unless you want to work,” he said.
“How much will you pay me to help you build the raft?” I asked.
“Pay you?” Tom said as if I’d insulted him. “I am giving you a chance to learn how to build a raft and you want to be paid. You must have cockroaches in your head. I can get any kid in town to help me for nothing.”
I sure as heck didn’t want to lose out on learning how to build a raft. Someday I might be lost in the mountains and the only way to save myself would be to build a raft and float downstream to civilization,
“You don’t have to pay me,” I said. “But we can’t leave Frankie alone.”
“We’ll cake him with us,” Tom said.
We got the two-man saw, the hand saw, and a tow chain from the toolshed and the ax from the woodshed. We rode Bess to Cedar Ridge, on the outskirts of town. It got its name from the cedar trees growing there. But there were also a lot of pine and aspen trees.
Tom picked out a young pine tree that had a trunk about eight inches thick. He cut a notch with the ax on one side to make it fall the way he wanted. Then we started sawing on the other side with the two-man saw. It was hard work, but I pretended I was a lumberjack and that made it fun.
“Timber!” Frankie shouted as the tree began to topple and then fell to the ground.
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We cut off the top with the saw and then trimmed all the branches off with the hand saw and ax. When we finished we had a log about twelve feet long.
“We will need three more the same size,” Tom said.
He hooked one end of the chain around one end of the log and the other end of the chain to tugs on Bess’s harness. Bess pulled the log to our corral, with the three of us riding her. Frankie and I got off. Tom rode Bess in-side the barn, pulling the log-It took the next two days to get three more logs the same size and cut them in two. Tom laid the eight logs side by side on the ground in the barn.
“When we finish,” he said, “I’ll have a raft about five feet wide and six feet long.”
“How did you learn how to build a raft?” I asked because nobody in Adenville had a raft.
“Out of Papa’s book,” Tom said. “Mountain men and trappers used vines or strips of animal skin to bind the logs together in the old days. I’ll have to use rope instead.”
It was now time for The Great Brain to part with some cash. For Tom this was like a soldier going to war parting from his sweetheart. And, oh, how it must have broken his money-loving heart to part with one dollar to buy fifty feet of rope. We returned to the barn with the rope. I helped Tom bind the logs together. We used slip-knots to tie the logs together about a foot from each end.
“Get a bucket of water from the water trough and soak the ropes,” Tom said.
“Why?” I asked.
“To shrink the rope and make it good and tight,” Tom answered.
We soaked the rope and then took Frankie’s wagon and went to the lumberyard. Tom asked Mr. Hoffman if he had any scrap lumber.
“Going to build a doghouse?” Mr. Hoffman asked, probably because Brownie and Prince were with us.
“No, sir,” Tom said. ‘T’m building a raft. I want to put a deck on the logs.”
“How big is it?” Mr. Hoffman asked-
“About six feet long and five feet wide,” Tom answered.
“You should have a solid board across the front and the rear,” Mr. Hoffman said. “Then you can use scrap lumber for the rest of the deck.”
“I wasn’t figuring on paying for any lumber,” Tom said. “Maybe Mr. Harmon at the Z. C. M. I. store has some old wooden crates he will give me.”
“Who said anything about paying?” Mr. Hoffman asked.
He gave Tom two boards a foot wide and five feet long and more than enough scrap lumber for the deck. And I’ll be the son of a sailor if he didn’t give Tom a pound of nails free of charge too.
We returned to the barn. It was a good thing Tom had put the ropes binding the logs together a toot from each end. The two boards Mr. Hoffman gave him fit per-fectly. We nailed them first. Then we used pieces of scrap lumber to finish the deck.
Tom stepped back to admire the raft. “All I need now is an oar and a oarlock,” he said.
“What is an oarlock?” Frankie asked.
“It is a thing shaped like a horseshoe with a bolt on
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the end,” Tom said. “I’ll show you a picture of one in Papa’s big dictionary.”
The next morning Tom took the dictionary with him when we went to the blacksmith shop owned by Eddie Huddle’s father. Mr-Huddle was the strongest man in town. He was wearing his leather apron and shaping a red-hot horseshoe on his anvil when we arrived. We waited until he had shaped the horseshoe and, using his tongs, dunked it into the barrel of water to temper the steel.
Tom showed Mr. Huddle the picture of the oarlock in the dictionary. “I want you to make an oarlock like this one for me,” he said. “I figure you can use a horseshoe and forge a bolt to the bottom of it.”
“Why do you want it?” Mr. Huddle asked.
“For my raft,” Tom said. “But first, how much will it cost me?”
“Not a thing, Tom,” Mr. Huddle answered.
The blacksmith put a horseshoe and a bolt on his forge. Tom turned the handle on the blower of the forge until the metal was red hot. Mr. Huddle used his tongs, blacksmith’s hammer, and anvil to forge the two pieces of metal together. Then he dunked the oarlock into the barrel of water to temper the steel. Tom thanked him and we started for home.
“One thing I can’t figure out,” I said. “Why did Mr. Hoffman give you the lumber and nails for nothing and Mr. Huddle make the oarlock free of charge?”
“Because they have guilty consciences,” Tom said. “Both of them would have lost money in the Alkali Flats swindle if it hadn’t been for me. And it they had tried to charge me, I was going to remind them of it.”
“But you had to pay for the rope.” I said.
“Because Mr. Harmon at the Z. C. M. I. store didn’t invest in Alkali Products Incorporated,” Tom said.
Tom got Papa’s brace and a one-inch wooden bit from the toolstied. He drilled a hole near the center of the rear end of the raft. He put the bolt part of the oarlock into the hole in the deck board and log. He twisted the horseshoe back and forth.
“Now for the oar,” he said.
I watched him make an oar out of an old pitchfork handle and a piece of board about six inches wide and a foot long. I didn’t understand how the oarlock worked until he put the handle in the horseshoe part.
“Get the idea, J. D.?” he said as he moved the handle back and forth in the oarlock. “The oarlock does two things. It holds the handle of the oar and gives me the leverage needed to steer the raft.”
“It’s a beaut,” I said. “Now all you’ve got to do is to figure out how to get the raft to the river.”
“My great brain figured that out before I started,” he said. “I knew I couldn’t drag the raft over land or it would wear out the ropes around the logs. I’m going to use our stone sled to haul it.”
Almost every family in Adenville had a stone sled. They were used instead of a wagon for small hauling jobs. We used ours every fall to haul manure to put on our vegetable and flower gardens and front lawn. The early pioneers used them mostly for hauling stones to build fireplaces. That is how they got their name.
Tom had told Papa that he was building a raft in the barn. During iunch he let Papa know the raft was com-pleted.
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“I’d better take a look at it,” Papa said, “if you intend sailing it on the river.”
Papa inspected the raft after lunch and pronounced it seaworthy.
“Now, J. D.,” Tom said, after Papa had left the barn, “I want you to round up all the kids you can and tell them that they can get to see the first river-going raft ever built in Adenville. And all it will cost them is two cents.”
“So that’s why you didn’t want anybody to know you were building a raft,” I said. “But they will get to see it for nothing when you take it down to the river.”
“Don’t mention anything about me taking the raft to the river,” Tom said. “Just tell them they get to see the raft and that’s all.”
Then Tom put his arm around my shoulders. “I’ve decided to make you a ten percent partner in this business venture,” he said generously. “Your job will be to ride Bess, pulling the stone sled down to the landing place and hauling the raft back upstream to the swimming hole. You get ten percent of all the money I collect for fares-Of course, you can’t expect ten percent of the money I get for showing the raft to the kids the first time.”
“Shake on it,” I said quickly. This was one time I was positive there was no way I could possibly lose making a deal with The Great Brain.
We shook hands. Then I rode my bike to Smith’s va-cant lot. The kids usually gathered there to play while waiting an hour after lunch to go swimming. A couple of kids in town had almost drowned from cramps because they went swimming right after eating. There were about a dozen kids there already. I told them about the raft. Those who didn’t have any money with them went
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nome to get some. Another bunch of kids showed up. I told them about the raft. News travels fast in a small town. I waited about half an hour but no more kids arrived. I found out the reason when I entered the barn. There were about fifty kids in our barn. But none of
them had seen the raft yet. Tom had it covered with a horse blanket.
“I guess everybody is here,” I told Tom. He walked over and took hold of one corner of the horse blanket. Then, with a dramatic movement, he threw back the blanket revealing the raft. I’d never seen such a bunch of bug-eyed kids in my life.
“Behold the good raft Explorer!” Tom shouted. “The first river-going raft ever built in Adenville!”
Danny Forester’s left eyelid was wide open as he
stared at Tom. “Are you going to sail it on the river?” he asked.
“There will be morning and afternoon trips down the river,” Tom said. “For a mere five cents you get to go exploring on a raft just like Huckleberry Finn. The trip includes shooting the rapids. Never before in the history of Adenville has such a thrilling, exciting, and dangerous adventure been offered to the kids in this town-The first trip will be this afternoon, starting at the swimming hole.” Then he picked up the coil of left-over rope. “Basil,”
he said, “you and Parley and Danny hold up one end of the Explorer.”
I watched Tom loop the rope around the middle of
the raft as the three boys held up one end. He tied a good strong knot in it.
“In case you are wondering,” he said, “the rope is for the smaller kids to hold onto when we shoot the rapids.”
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I helped Tom hitch up Bess to the stone sled. The raft was lifted onto the sled. I got on Bess. Tom led the way out of the barn. When we reached the street a lot of adults stared at us. I guess they had never seen a raft being hauled on a stone sled with about fifty kids following be-hind.
When we arrived at the swimming hole, Tom stripped except for an old pair of pants.
“Line up, fellows,” he said, “for the maiden voyage of the good raft Explorer. The fare is just a nickel, the twentieth part of a dollar, for the greatest thrill of your lifetime.”
Every kid there wanted to go on the maiden voyage. There would have been a dozen fistfights over it if Tom hadn’t solved the problem.
“We will go by your birthdays, beginning in January,” he said.
Howard Kay was the only one born. in January. Danny and Basil were born in February. Nobody had been born in March. Pete Kyle and Hal Evans were born in April.
“That’is all for the first trip,” Tom said, “because I have to take Frankie and only six passengers can go at a time.”
The raft was carried into shallow water, and every-one climbed on board.
“You sit down, Frankie,” Tom ordered, “and hold onto the rope.”
Tom used the oar to push the raft into deeper water. Then he put the oar in the oarlock as the current began carrying the raft downstream. I got on Bess and began pulling the stone sled downstream. The kids who had been left behind ran with me, waving and yelling at the
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passengers on the raft. I was surprised at how well Tom could steer the raft with his oar and oarlock. He kept the bow pointed downstream and the raft right in the middle of the river’s current. The raft picked up speed as it neared the rapids. Tom ordered the five paying passengers to sit down. But he remained standing, holding the handle of the oar.
“Man the braces!” Tom shouted as the raft entered the rapids. “Man the top sail!”
The raft bounced up and down, dousing everybody on board with water but Tom remained standing. Tom wasn’t fooling when he had promised his customers the thrill of a lifetime. The passengers were screaming and yelling like I’d never heard kids do before. And the kids running along the bank were carrying on as if they, too, were shooting the rapids. This was one time The Great Brain was giving the kids more than their money’s worth.
There was a big bend in the river below the rapids-1 left the bank of the river and took a shortcut. I got Bess to the landing place just as the raft came around the bend. When it was opposite me, Tom cupped one hand to his mouth.
“Ahoy the shore!” he shouted.
I hadn’t expected this. I cupped my hands to my mouth.
“Ahoy the raft!” I shouted.
“The good raft Explorer asking permission to come ashore!” Tom shouted.
“Permission granted!” I shouted.
Then Tom and all the passengers except Frankie jumped off the raft. They waded through the two-feet- deep water and pushed the raft to the riverbank.
Danny was so excited it looked as if his left eyelid would never be half closed again. “Thought we were a goner in those rapids, Captain,” he ^aid to Tom.
“It was a mighty rough sea. Matey,” Tom said. “But the good raft Explorer weathered it well.” Then he looked at the kids who had run along the riverbank. “These land-lubbers don’t know what they missed.”
The trip downstream had lasted about half an hour. It took a little longer to haul the raft back to the swimming hole. Tom said there was time for one more trip.
“How about me?” I asked.
Tom hesitated and then looked at Basil. “You ride Bess down to the landing place,” he said, “and take Frankie with you.”
Then he collected five cents from each of the next five passengers and the Explorer was off on its second voy-age.
It had been very exciting for me just watching the raft from the riverbank. But actually riding on it was the greatest thrill of my life. And Tom made it even more thrilling.
“Shiver my timbers!” he shouted as we entered the rapids. “By the Great Horn Spoon we are heading into a typhoon. Man the braces and hang on, men!”
And as we went through the rapids, I imagined I was standing on the bridge of my own ship in a raging typhoon.
After the second trip it was time for everybody to go home to do the evening chores. I rode Bess with Frankie as the mare pulled the raft to our barn.
“Why didn’t you just leave the raft at the swimming
hole?” I asked Tom as we entered the barn.
“And have some kids get up early in the morning and go for a free ride?” Tom asked as if I were the stupidest person he’d ever met, “I figure I can make one trip in the morning and two in the afternoon every day except Sun-day. Papa and Mamma wouldn’t stand for it on Sundays. Six kids three times a day for six days out of the week comes to five dollars and forty cents I’ll collect in fares. I hope you appreciate, J. D., that my great brain is going to make a fortune for you.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, and meant it.
Tom handed me a nickel. “I collected fifty cents in fares today,” he said. “Here is your ten percent commission.”
We unharnessed Bess. Then Tom sat on the railing of the corral fence while Frankie and I did the chores. He jumped down after we’d finished.
“You know, J. D.,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. “I’ve been thinking. I’ll be leaving for the academy in about three weeks. The weather here in Adenville is so mild you can run excursions on the river on Saturdays after school starts, at least during September and October. You could make ninety cents every Saturday if you owned the Explorer.”
“Are you going to give me the raft?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Tom said. “But I’ll make you a business proposition. You give me a dollar to pay for the rope I bought. And also your ten percent commission on fares until I leave and I’ll turn the Explorer over to you when I go back to the academy.”
I knew from some sad experiences that it always pays to think twice when making a deal with The Great Brain.
“I’ll think it over,” I said.
“What’s to think about?” Tom asked as if I’d insulted him. “During the next three weeks your ten percent commission will amount to a dollar and sixty-two cents. The dollar for the rope brings this up to two dollars and sixty-two cents. There are nine Saturdays in September and October. You would make ninety cents on each Saturday. That would amount to eight dollars and ten cents-Forget it, J. D. I’ll sell the Explorer to some kid who isn’t so dumb when it comes to figuring money.”
I sure as heck didn’t want to be known as a kid so dumb he didn’t know the difference between two dollars and sixty-two cents and eight dollars and ten cents.
“Don’t do that,” I said. “I’ll buy the raft from you.”
“Shake on it,” he said.
We shook hands to seal the bargain.
“And now, J. D.,” Tom said, “it is always best to settle a business deal as quickly as possible. Let’s go up to our room so you can get the dollar from your bank.”
We went up to the room. I shook a dollar’s worth of change out of my piggy bank and handed it to Tom.
“You are a nickel short,” he said.
I stared at the money in his hand. “How do you figure that?” I asked. “Two quarters, four dimes, and two nickels make one dollar.”
“You are forgetting the five cents commission I paid you today,” Tom said. “Our deal was for a dollar plus all of your ten percent commission until I leave for the academy.”
The Great Brain was right. I handed him another five cents.