Part 8 (2/2)
”Look, Jones, I believe you. Okay, you're the devil. But you just can't do this. First a hippopotamus, now the world's biggest ocean liner in the middle of the street-- You're driving me nuts!”
”Why, h.e.l.lo d.i.c.k. Say, you ought to see those subscriptions now! I'd say we have five thousand dollars' worth. They're beginning to come in from the cities now. Just you wait, boy, you'll have a newspaper that'll beat 'em all!”
Arguing didn't faze him. I saw then and there that Mr. Jones wouldn't be stopped. So I cussed a few times and started off. Only I was stopped short by an expensive looking blonde, with horn-rimmed gla.s.ses and a notebook.
”Mr. Richard Lewis, editor of the _Danville Courier_?” she said.
”That's me.”
”My name is Elissa Traskers. I represent the _New York Mirror_. May we go somewhere to talk?”
I mumbled, ”Okay,” and took one more look at the s.h.i.+p.
Far up on the deck I could see a guy in a uniform chasing what couldn't have been anything else but a young lady without much clothes on.
When two big rats jumped off the lowest port hole and scampered down the street, I turned around sharply and almost dragged the blonde the entire way to my house.
Once inside, I closed the door and locked it. My nerves were on the way out.
”Mr. Lewis, why did you do that?” asked the blonde.
”Because I like to lock doors, I _love_ to lock doors. They fascinate me.”
”I see. Now then, Mr. Lewis, we'd like a full account, in your own words, of all these strange happenings.”
She crossed a tan leg and that didn't help much to calm me down.
”Miss Traskers,” I said, ”I'll tell you just once, and then I want you to go away. I'm not a wellman.
”My father, Elmer Lewis, was a drifter and a floater all his life, until he met the devil. Then he decided what would really make him happy. So he asked the devil to set him up in a small town with a small town newspaper. He asked for a monthly cash stipend. He got all this, so for fifty years he sat around happy as a fool, editing a paper which didn't sell and collecting lousy bugs--”
The blonde baby looked worried, because I must have sounded somewhat unnatural. But maybe the business with the boat had convinced her that unusual things do, occasionally, happen.
”Mr. Lewis,” she said sweetly, ”before you go on, may I offer you a drink?”
And she produced from her purse a small, silver flask. It had scotch in it. With the elan of the d.a.m.ned, I got a couple of gla.s.ses and divided the contents of the flask into each.
”Thanks.”
”Quite all right. Now, enough kidding, Mr. Lewis. I must turn in a report to my paper.”
”I'm _not_ kidding, honey. For fifty-five years my dad did this, and my mother stuck right by him.
The only thing out of the ordinary they ever had was me.”
The scotch tasted wonderful. I began to like Miss Traskers a lot.
”All this cost Pop his soul, but he was philosophic and I guess that didn't matter much to him.
Anyway, he tricked the devil into including me into the bargain. So after he died and left the paper to me, and I started to go broke, Mr. Jones appeared and decided to help me out.”
”To help you out?”
”Yeah, All this news is his work. Before he's done he'll send the whole world off its rocker, just so I can get subscriptions.”
She'd stopped taking it down a long time ago.
”I'd think you were a d.a.m.ned liar, Mr. Lewis--”
”Call me d.i.c.k.”
”--if I hadn't seen the _Queen Mary_ sitting out there. Frankly, Mr. Lew--d.i.c.k, if you're telling the truth, something's got to be done.”
”You're darn right it does, Elissa. But what? The old boy is having too much fun now to be stopped. He told me himself that he hasn't had anything to do like this for centuries.”
”Besides,” she said, ”how did I get here so quickly? The s.h.i.+p was discovered only this morning, yet I can't remember--”
”Oh, don't worry about it, kid. From now on _anything_ is likely to happen.”
Something did. I went over and kissed her, for no apparent reason except that she was a pretty girl and I was feeling rotten. She didn't seem to mind.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang.
”Who is it?” I shouted.
”We're from the a.s.sociated Press. We want to see Mr. Richard Lewis,” came a couple of voices. I could hear more footsteps coming up the front porch.
”I'm sorry,” I called, ”he's just come down with Yellow Fever. He can't see anybody.”
But it wasn't any use. More and more steps and voices, and I could see the door being pushed inward, I grabbed Elissa's hand and we ran out the back way, ran all the way to the office.
Strangely, there weren't many people around. We walked in, and there, of course, was Mr.
Jones at the typewriter. He looked up, saw Elissa and winked at me.
”Listen to this, boy. BANK PRESIDENT'S WIFE CLAIMS DIVORCE--EXPLAINS CAUGHT HUSBAND TRIFLING WITH THREE MERMAIDS IN BATHTUB. 'course, it's rather long, but I think we can squeeze it in. Well, well, who have you there?”
I couldn't think of anything else, so I introduced Elissa.
”Ah, from the _Mirror!_ I got you down here this morning, didn't I?”
Elissa looked at me and I could tell she didn't think I had been trying to fool her.
”Have you turned in your report yet, Miss?”
She shook her head.
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