I sure felt awful about the necktie and hat. That was the one thing that went wrong with Christmas. I never did tell Tom and Frankie, figuring there was no sense in making them feel bad too. At the same time I couldn’t help feeling grateful to Papa and Mamma for loving us enough to wear the necktie and the hat. And I didn’t blame Papa when he spilled some printer’s ink on the necktie the second time he wore it. And I guess Mamma knew it was going to rain the day she first wore the hat and ruined it.
The present that provided Tom with his next great brain’s scheme to make money was the wagon Frankie got for Christmas. The holidays were over. Sweyn had gone back to school. It was the first Saturday after school started and Tom, Frankie, and I were sitting on the corral fence after finishing our chores.
“Buying all those Christmas presents has just about made a pauper out of me,” Tom said.
Tom calling himself a pauper was like Mr. Thompson the butcher saying he didn’t have any meat in his meat market.
“You wouldn’t be satisfied if you were a millionaire,” I said. “You are the wealthiest kid in town and have got more money than a lot of adults.”
“Maybe so,” Tom said, “but I haven’t made any money since the horse race and that was a long time ago. And besides, there is nothing to do in this town when I haven’t got a deal of some kind going for me.”
“What do you mean nothing to do?” I asked. “We can play basketball, football, and baseball.”
“I mean something exciting like the amusement park in Salt Lake City,” Tom said. “When I was going to the Jesuit Catholic Academy, Father Rodrigues took all the students to this big amusement park one Saturday. They had everything there, a merry-go-round, a Ferris wheel, a roller coaster, and a chute-the-chute.”
“I’ve seen pictures of a Ferris wheel and a roller coaster,” I said, “but what is a chute-the-chute?”
“Yeah, what?” Frankie said.
“You get on a thing with wheels that looks like a coaster,” Tom said, “and it goes way up high. Then it comes down the track lickety-split, so fast you think you are flying.”
“Boy, oh, boy,” I said. “I’d sure like to ride on a chute-the-chute.”
“I’ll bet a lot of kids would,” Tom said. “And that gives me an idea. Frankie, you won’t be using your old wagon now that you’ve got a new one. What do you want for it?”
“Why do you want it?” Frankie asked.
“To make a coaster for my chute-the-chute,” Tom said. “All I want are the wheels and axles. Those axles are heavy iron and braced. The wheels have strong spokes and heavy welded steel rims. They are strong enough to take the jolt of coming off a chute-the-chute.”
“What will you give me for them?” Frankie asked.
“Ten free rides on the chute-the-chute when it is finished,” Tom answered.
“It’s a deal,” Frankie said.
“Hold it,” I said. “Maybe you can make a coaster but how are you going to make the track for the chute-the-chute?”
“Out of that lumber left over from tearing down our icehouse,” Tom answered.
Everybody had an icehouse of their own until that previous summer. They went or hired somebody to go to the frozen lakes in the mountains in the wintertime and cut cakes of ice. The cakes were about three feet long, two feet wide, and two feet deep. They were placed in rows in an icehouse and then covered with sawdust to stop them from melting during the summer. But last summer Hank Morgan built a big icehouse and went into the business of selling ice door to door with his ice wagon. It cost a little more but it was worth it. Our icehouse had lain vacant for a few months and then Papa had it taken down. We had been using the lumber for kindling wood but there was a lot of wood left.
“You had better ask Papa about it before you start building your chute-the-chute,” I said. “He was saving that lumber for kindling wood.”
“There will be plenty left,” Tom said. “I’ll make a track from the edge of our barn down to the ground where the icehouse used to be.”
I can’t say that Papa was enthusiastic about the idea when we went to the Advocate office to ask him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It sounds rather dangerous to me.”
“Let me build the track,” Tom said, “and you can inspect it and the coaster before any kid rides the chute-the-chute. You always said it takes brains to make money and this is one of the best ideas my great brain ever had to make money. Besides, the kids in town will get a thrilling ride they would have had to go all the way to Salt Lake City to get.”
“All right,” Papa said. “But if I decide it isn’t safe you will have to tear it down.”
We left the Advocate office and stopped at the Z. C. M. I. store. Tom had been so sure Papa would say yes that he’d brought along enough money to buy a pound of sixteen-penny nails, a hook, and fifty feet of quarter-inch rope.
“I’ll need a box to make a coaster,” Tom said.
“Help yourself to any you find out in back,” Mr. Harmon said.
But there wasn’t the right size wooden box in back of the store. Tom explained to Mr. Harmon the size of the box he needed. Mr. Harmon took us into the storeroom. Tom picked out a box. We helped Mr. Harmon empty the canned milk from it and put the cans on a shelf.
When we arrived in our barn Tom put his arm around my shoulders.
“Out of the goodness of my heart,” he said, “I’m going to make you a ten-percent partner in this business venture of mine. I’ll need you to help build the track and to pull the coaster back up after each ride.”
“It’s a deal,” I said.
Tom removed the wheels and axles from Frankie’s old wagon. He got a two-by-four from the old icehouse lumber and sawed off two pieces two feet long. He turned the box over and nailed the pieces of two-by-four on each end. Then he fastened the axles to the two pieces of lumber by driving nails in part way and then bending them over the axles. He used part of the lid of the box to make a seat in the coaster. Then he cut off a piece of the lid about two inches wide which he nailed near the front to be used as a hand railing. He sat down in the seat and grabbed the hand railing.
“This is how you ride the coaster,” he said.
“But you can’t steer it,” I protested.
“You don’t have to steer it,” he said. “The track I’m going to build will make the coaster steer itself.”
After eating lunch Tom began building the track for the chute-the-chute on the ground where the old icehouse had been.
“The track will be thirty-six feet long,” he said. “First we’ll pick out six twelve-foot two-by-fours.”
Parley, Danny, and Seth arrived. Tom told them what he was doing. They offered to help for nothing. Tom laid out three two-by-fours flat. He joined them together with a two-foot brace. He did the same with the other three two-by-fours. Then he laid the two thirty-six foot pieces of track side by side. He got the coaster and got Danny and Parley to separate the two pieces of track so the wheels of the coaster fit on the track. Then he nailed a cross brace at each end and in the middle. Then he turned the track right side up. He pushed the coaster from one end to the other to make sure the wheels fit the track.
Parley pushed his coonskin cap to the back of his head. “The coaster will run off the track,” he said.
“Not when we get through,” Tom said. “We’ll get six more twelve-foot two-by-fours and nail them to the sides of the track. That will leave two inches sticking up above where the wheels go and keep the coaster on the track.”
When that was finished we lifted one end of the track to the edge of the barn. Tom got our long ladder. He climbed up to the roof and nailed the end brace through the shingles and sheathing. Then he came down to the ground.
“That will hold it to the roof,” he said. “But my father said it must be one-hundred-percent safe. We’ll dig two holes under the center of the track. Then we’ll get two twelve-foot two-by-fours and stick them in the holes and tamp down the dirt good. Then I’ll climb up th
e track and nail the two two-by-fours to each side of the track. That will make two solid braces from the ground to the track.”
After that was finished Tom stood back to admire the track. “The cross braces will prevent the track from spreading,” he said. “The underpinnings will make it solid enough for a man to ride in the coaster, let alone a boy. I’m going to give it a trial run.”
“You can’t do that,” I said. “Papa must inspect the coaster and track first.”
Tom looked plumb disgusted with me. “How will I know it’s safe for Papa to inspect if I don’t try it first?” he said.
We got the coaster from the barn and the fifty-foot rope. Tom fastened the hook he had bought to the rear of the coaster.
“Now, J. D.,” he said, “climb up on the barn and brace your feet against the brace on the track.”
I did as I was told while Tom made a loop on one end of the rope and fastened it to the hook on the coaster. Then he threw the rest of the rope up to me. I caught it.
“All right, J. D.,” Tom ordered. “Pull up the coaster.”
I pulled the coaster up the track while Tom climbed up to the roof. He brought a hammer and a sixteen-penny nail with him. He drove the nail through the shingles and sheathing.
“I’ll hold the coaster,” he said, “while you coil up the rope and wrap it around that nail so it won’t slide off the roof.”
I did as I was told. Then Tom told me to brace my feet and hold the coaster while he got into it. A moment later the chute-the-chute was ready for its first trial run. I was holding the coaster by the rear end.
“Now, J. D.,” Tom said, “before you let go always make sure you’ve removed the rope from the hook on the coaster. Let her rip!”
I let go of the coaster and down the track it went, lickety-split. It went so fast that when it hit the ground it traveled about twenty-five feet in the dirt before stopping. Right away Parley, Seth, and Danny wanted to ride.
“I guess you are entitled to one ride free for helping,” Tom said.
He pulled the coaster back to the bottom of the track and hollered up at me to throw down the rope. He took the end with the loop on it and fastened it to the hook on the coaster.
“Pull her up!” he shouted.
Then both he and Parley came up to the roof. I was holding the coaster.
“Pull the rear wheels back over the brace and the coaster will hold itself,” Tom said. “That will give you a chance to coil up the rope after each ride and unhook the coaster.”
I did as he ordered.
“Now, J. D.,” Tom said, “lift those rear wheels back on the track and hold the coaster with both hands while Parley gets into it.”
A moment later the coaster was all set for its second trip. I let go and it went flying down the track and again traveled about twenty-five feet on the ground after leaving the track.
“Now, Parley,” Tom shouted, “whoever rides the coaster must bring it back, set it on the track, and attach the rope to the hook so J. D. can pull the coaster back up.”
Seth and Danny both took their free ride. Tom wouldn’t let Frankie or me ride in the coaster until after Papa inspected it. He put the coaster in the barn so no kids could steal any free rides.
Papa didn’t get a chance to inspect the track and coaster until after Sunday dinner, which we always ate at one o’clock. He tried to shake the track but it was too solid. He even grabbed hold of it and lifted himself off the ground to see if it would hold his weight. Then he inspected the coaster. He turned it over.
“You did a good job of securing the axle to the coaster,” he told Tom. “Those front wheels will take quite a jolt coming off the chute-the-chute. Now let’s have a demonstration.”
I climbed up on the roof of the barn and tossed down the rope. Tom hooked the loop on the hook. I pulled the coaster to the top while Tom climbed up the ladder. A moment later Tom was seated in the coaster and ready to go.
“Let go now, J. D.,” he said.
Down the track the coaster went, lickety-split, hitting the ground and going on about twenty-five feet. Tom pulled it back to the track.
“Well, Papa,” he said. “I guess you’ve got to admit that the track and coaster are perfectly safe.”
“Yes, they are,” Papa said, “if you operate them properly. You must make sure that J. D. removes the rope from the hook before each ride. Otherwise the rope could become snagged, stop suddenly, and pitch whoever was riding in the coaster out of it.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Tom said, “on each and every ride.”
A crowd of about twenty kids had arrived. Tom waited until Papa left and then made what he called a pitch.
“All right, fellows,” he shouted, “line up for the ride of a lifetime on the chute-the-chute. Just a penny a ride in cash, no credit or promises. The thrill of a lifetime for only a penny.”
The kids lined up. Tom stood at the foot of the ladder to collect a penny from each one. I wasn’t worried about the chute-the-chute, but I began to worry about the ladder because there was a kid on every step of it waiting for his turn to ride. Seth Smith, who had already ridden on the coaster, was first in line. I pulled the coaster to the top and put the rear wheels over the brace to hold it while I coiled up the rope.
Tom yelled up at me, “Is the coaster unhooked?”
“Right,” I shouted.
“Then take it off the brace and hold it with both hands for our first customer,” Tom shouted.
I obeyed orders. Seth got into the coaster. I let go. When the coaster stopped on the ground, Seth pulled it back to the track and attached the loop of the rope to the hook. The chute-the-chute was open for business.
It only took about two minutes for each ride, which meant Tom was making thirty cents an hour. He kept his word to Papa, calling up each time to make sure I’d unhooked the rope, which seemed sort of silly to me. We had to quit at four o’clock so the fellows could go home and do their evening chores. Tom had collected eighty-four cents besides giving Frankie his ten free rides. That meant I’d pulled the coaster back up the track ninety-four times. No wonder there were blisters on my hands. I was doing all the work and Tom was making all the money. Thirty kids could ride in one hour. That meant I was only making three cents an hour.
I let Tom know how I felt when he paid me eight cents and told me the extra four rides would count on the next day.
“I do all the work and you make all the money,” I said, showing him the blisters on my hands. “I should be a fifty-percent partner or at least a twenty-five-percent partner.”
“Don’t be silly,” Tom said. “Out of the goodness of my heart I’m making you a ten-percent partner.”
“Well, you had better make it a twenty-five-percent partner or I quit,” I said, feeling positive that Tom would do it knowing I was doing all the work.
“You’re being a fool,” Tom said. “I’ll be able to run the chute-the-chute for an hour and a half on school days and for several hours on weekends. I’ll be taking in four or five dollars a week and your ten percent will be forty or fifty cents. But if you want to be a fool it’s all right with me. I’ll get somebody else to help me run the chute-the-chute.”
Maybe it was because of the blisters on my hands, or maybe because I’d helped build the track, or maybe because I was doing all the work that I felt so stubborn.
“Twenty-five percent or I quit,” I said.
“So you quit,” Tom said, looking unconcerned. “And to show you my heart is in the right place I only owe you four-tenths of a cent but here is a penny.”
That evening after supper Tom left the house. He returned in about an hour. I was still hurt that he wouldn’t make me a twenty-five-percent partner, but the more I thought about it the more I began to regret that I’d quit. I guess that’s what made me stay awake until he came up to bed.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said when Tom came into the bedroom. “I’ve decided not to quit.”
“You’re too late,” Tom said. �
��I made a deal with Pete Kyle tonight to help me run the chute-the-chute. And you should have that little brain of yours examined. I offered you a chance to make four times as much money each week as you make doing your share of the chores.”
Tom was right. It was hard work carrying in kindling wood and coal for the stoves. It was hard work milking the cow. It was hard work pitching hay into the manger for the livestock. All chores were hard work. It took Tom and Frankie and me at least one hour every morning before breakfast and one hour in the evening to do the chores. I was working fourteen hours a week for ten cents allowance. And I’d been fool enough not to be satisfied making three cents an hour working with Tom on the chute-the-chute. Boy, oh, boy, sometimes my little brain was so dumb it astounded me.
“Can’t you call the deal off with Pete?” I asked. “After all, I am your own flesh and blood.”
“Everybody knows that when I make a deal, I keep my word,” Tom said. “Anyway, I’ll feel safer with Pete up there helping me because he is older and bigger than you.”
Boy, oh, boy, it was bad enough to lose the job without having Tom rub salt in my wounds. I had a heck of a time going to sleep that night because I kept myself awake by thinking of what a fool I’d been.
* * *
During the next couple of weeks I had to get in line and pay a penny just like everybody else to ride the chute-the-chute. No wonder Tom had customers lined up. It was like flying through the air. It was so fast that the wind whistled in my ears. I’d never had such a thrill in my life. I took more than twenty-five rides on the chute-the-chute, paying each time. I couldn’t help being jealous of Pete, although I knew his family was poor and he needed the money. But I sure wasn’t jealous when the accident happened.
Parley Benson was the passenger. Pete forgot to unhook the rope from the coaster, and he was standing with one foot inside the coil of rope on the roof. His foot got tangled up with the rope when the coaster was about halfway down the track. Pete was pulled off the roof and Parley went flying out of the coaster head over heels. It was a wonder Parley didn’t break his neck, but all he got were a few bruises. But Pete was lying on the ground with his right leg in a strange position.
The Great Brain Does It Again Page 6
