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Me & My Little Brain

Page 12

by John D. Fitzgerald


  Papa looked at Frankie, who had gone to sleep on Mamma's lap with a contented smile on his face. "Mark had me about convinced his plan was the only possible way to save Frankie's life when Brownie came scratching and barking at the front door."

  "I was right about Cal Roberts and the boy," Uncle Mark said. "Roberts knows he will be hung for killing those two prison guards. I asked him when I locked him up in jail what he had intended to do with Frankie. He said he had nothing to lose now by telling the truth. He intended to kill Frankie as soon as he was sure he wasn't being followed by a posse."

  "Just what would Frankie's chances have been with your plan?" I asked.

  "I didn't admit this to your father," Uncle Mark said, but hitting a moving target as small as a revolver while shooting at a downward angle would have been about a hundred-to-one shot. But I figured one chance in a hundred to save the boy was better than no chance at all."

  Uncle Mark got to his feet and walked over to me. "I'd better get going," he said. "But before I go, John, I want to thank you. And the state of Utah is going to thank you also. There is a five-hundred-dollar reward for the capture of Cal Roberts."

  I hadn't even thought about a reward. "I did it for Frankie, not for any reward," I said.

  "You risked your life and earned the reward," Uncle Mark said. "There isn't a doubt in my mind that Cal Roberts would have killed you if he had woken up while you were in the loft or if his revolver hadn't fallen out oŁ his holster."

  I hadn't thought about the danger then and I couldn't think about it now. "Boy, oh, boy," I said. "Five hundred dollars makes Tom and his great brain look like a piker."

  "It will go a long way toward paying for your education," Uncle Mark said.

  "Education?" I asked. I felt my heart drop all the way down to the soles of my shoes.

  "Wipe that disappointed look off your face, J.D.," Papa said, smiling. "Your mother and I have no intention of using the reward money for your education. We are paying to send your brothers to the Catholic Academy and we will pay to send you and Frankie when the time comes. But five hundred dollars is just too much money for a boy your age to have to spend. We will put the money in the bank and give it to you with the interest when you are eighteen."

  What Papa said didn't quite wipe the disappointed look off my face. "Boy, oh, boy, that is a long time away," I said. "Can't I have any of it now?"

  Mamma was rocking Frankie in her arms. "Why do you need more than your allowance now?" she asked.

  "Well, for one thing," I said, "to buy new tires and • new sprocket for Tom's bike."

  "That you can have," Papa said.

  "And I figure I'm old enough to have a bike of my own," I said. "I want to buy a bike for me and a tricycle for Frankie."

  "That you can also have," Papa said, smiling.

  It just goes to prove what a fellow can get out of life by being himself. Me and my little brain, with God's help, had saved Frankie's life. Me and my little brain had put a dangerous outlaw and killer behind bars. Me and my little brain had made me the richest kid in Utah and got me a new bike. But best of all, me and my little brain had got me a younger brother who thought I was just about the greatest in the world.

 

 

 


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