More Adventures Of The Great Brain (11 page)

“Maybe Papa
don’t
let me,” Basil said.

   
“Show him your press card and tell him you work for me,” Tom said. “Tell him it is a part of being one-hundred-percent American boy.”

   
The next morning after doing my share of the morning chores I went to the Marshal’s Office. Uncle Mark wasn’t there but there was a prisoner in one of the cells. It was Mr. Haggerty, who got drunk every couple of weeks and disturbed the peace so much that Uncle Mark had to lock him up until he was sober. He was sitting on the bunk in his cell holding his head in his hands. Since it was my duty as a reporter to interview all prisoners, I walked to the door of the cell.

“Mr. Haggerty, why do you get drunk?”
I asked.

   
He raised his head and looked at me with bloodshot eyes. “It’s that wife of mine, sonny,” he said. “She nags and nags at me until I have to get drunk or go out of my mind.”

   
I figured this was news because nobody but
me
and Mr. Haggerty knew why he got drunk. I made a note of it in my reporter’s notebook.

Friday afternoon right after lunch all the reporters arrived at our barn to turn in their reports. Tom sat behind his desk with his green eye shade over his eyes. He had a pencil in his hand and a big notebook on his desk. He asked me to report first. I told him what Mr. Haggerty had told me.

   
“Very good, J.D.,” Tom said as he wrote in his notebook. “That is news. I’ve often wondered why he got drunk.”

   
One by one Sammy, Seth, Danny, and Jimmie made their reports. All of them had one or more items that Tom considered newsworthy enough to write in his notebook.

“You’re next, Basil/’ he said.

“I wait until other reporters leave,” Basil said.

   
“Some reporter,” Sammy said with a sneer. “He didn’t get any news.”

   
Tom had an excited look on his face as he ordered the other reporters to leave. When all of them had left the barn, he looked at Basil.

   
“You found out something about the robbery?” he asked with excitement.

   
“I know who rob bank,” Basil said proudly. “I no want to say in front of other reporters. Afraid maybe they tell before Bugle is published.”

   
“Wow!” Tom shouted. “What a story!” Then he gripped his pencil. “Let’s have it, Basil.”

   
Basil told us he was pretty downhearted by Thursday evening because he hadn’t heard anything from customers at the cafe that sounded like news. He asked his father if he could stay up hiding behind the counter until the cafe closed at nine o’clock. At first his father said no, but when Basil explained he would lose his job as a reporter on the Bugle if he didn’t get some news, his father agreed.

At eight-thirty two customers entered the cafe for a late supper. They sat down at a table and ordered steaks smothered in onions and hash-brown potatoes, apple pie, and coffee. Mr. Kokovinis went into the kitchen to prepare the meal. Basil’s mother was in the apartment where they lived above the cafe. Basil took a chance and peeked around the corner of the counter. He recognized Hank Williams, who had been working in the livery stable since coming to town about three months ago. He was a regular customer at the cafe. The other man was Frank Jackson, who had also been a regular customer in the cafe since coming to town a couple of weeks ago. His father had told him that Jackson was a gambler. Basil was about to give up when he heard the men begin to quarrel about the robbery.

“I say, let’s take the loot and blow town,” Jackson said.

“Keep your voice down,” Williams said.

   
“The Greek is in the kitchen and can’t hear us,” Jackson said.

   
“We made a bargain when I sent for you,” Williams said. “If we pull out right away, the Marshal will put two and two together and be right on our tail with a posse. But if we just stick it out for a month and then pull out, it won’t attract any suspicion. We pulled off a perfect robbery, and if we just stick to our bargain we can never be arrested for it.”

   
“I guess you’re right,” Jackson said. “But are you sure nobody will find that valise in the livery stable?”

“I’ve got it well hidden under some hay,” Williams said.

   
Basil remained behind the counter until the men had eaten and left the cafe.

   
“Did you tell your father?” Tom asked as Basil finished his story.

“No,” Basil answered. “Afraid Papa
want
to tell Marshal.”

I was so excited I was trembling. “I’ll go get Uncle Mark!” I shouted.

   
“You will do no such thing,” Tom said. “And you will give me your word you won’t breathe a word of this to anybody.”

“But you must tell Uncle Mark,” I said.

   
“We will tell him, but not until just before the first edition of the Bugle hits the streets tomorrow,” Tom said. He dropped his pencil on the desk and began rubbing his hands. “
Boy,
am I going to scoop Papa’s newspaper. He’ll wish he’d never said I was too young to help him at the Advocate. I’ll start setting the type for the first edition of the Bugle right now. You will have to do my chores this afternoon.”

“Why should I?” I asked.

   
“Because I can set type and you can’t, and we’ve got a newspaper to get out,” Tom answered. Then he looked at Basil. “You’ve done a great job of reporting,” he said. “I will see you get full credit for it in the Bugle. Now go tell all the other reporters I want them here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, but don’t mention anything about the robbery being solved.”

   
I not only got stuck doing Tom’s chores and mine that afternoon but also the next morning. Tom said he’d found some typographical errors in the type he had set and wanted to correct them.

   
“I can’t slug the type to make the columns come out even,” he told me right after breakfast, “because I haven’t enough experience yet. But I can make sure there are no typographical errors.”

   
All the reporters arrived at nine o’clock just as I finished the chores. We all went into the barn. Tom had two pairs of old scissors Mamma had given him. He put Sammy and Danny to work cutting strips of newsprint 7 1/2 inches by 10 inches. We had to wait until they had a hundred sheets cut.

   
“We are ready to roll, men,” Tom said. “I’ll turn the wheel of the press and ink the make-ready. J.D., you feed the sheets into the press. Basil, you pull out the printed copies. The rest of you
lay
the printed copies on bales of hay and around the barn so the ink can dry.”

   
As the first copy of the Bugle came off the press, and Basil handed it to Sammy, I heard Sammy yell, “Holy Toledo, we solved the bank robbery!”

   
It was just like Sammy to take some of the credit and make such a commotion we had to stop the press while we all crowded around the bale of hay where the first copy lay drying. I couldn’t help swelling up with pride as I read the one-page first edition of the Bugle.

THE ADENVILLE BUGLE

READ IT FIRST IN THE Bugle

       
Vol. 1 Price One Cent

T. D. Fitzgerald Editor and Publisher

LOCAL NEWS OF INTEREST

 
If Mrs. Haggerty will stop nagging her husband all the time, he will stop getting drunk. Sarah Pickens is going to die an old maid because she is too stuck up and choosey to marry a local man who loves her. The
Winters
‘ dog, Bess, had pups. Anybody wanting a pup
see
Mr. or Mrs. Winters. Robert Bates got stung on the horse he bought from Steve Andrews because the horse is
windbroken
. If the

THE BUGLE SOLVES BANK ROBBERY

 
Acting upon information furnished by the Bugle, Marshal Mark
Trainor
arrested Hank Williams and Frank Jackson for the robbery of the Adenville Bank just a few minutes before this first edition of the Bugle was released to the public. All the stolen money was recovered from under some hay in the livery stable, where Williams has worked for about three months since coming to town.

Widow Rankin spent as much money on her kids as she does on herself trying to catch a new husband, her kids wouldn’t look like ragamuffins. Mrs. Lee’s brother, Stanley, isn’t in the Army like she tells people. He is serving time in the State Penitentiary. Anybody wanting a kitten
see
Mrs. Carter. Dan Thomas had better find a job soon or his brother-in-law, Mr. Forester, is going to throw Dan out on his ear. The kids in town made a deal with Mr. Smith. They are going to keep all the weeds cleared from the Smith vacant lot in return for using it as a playground.

EDITORIAL

 
Some parents don’t seem to realize that their kids are growing up and continue to treat them like little kids. When a boy gets to be eleven going on twelve, his parents should start treating him like a young man and not like a kid anymore.

 
The robbery was solved by the great detective work of Basil Kokovinis, a Bugle reporter, and the great brain of the Editor and Publisher of this newspaper.

 
The Editor and Publisher of the Bugle deduced the robbers were from the east side of the railroad tracks and must eat some of their meals in The Palace Cafe. He assigned his reporter to hide behind the counter in the cafe and listen for anything suspicious customers might say.

 
At eight-thirty Thursday evening Williams and Jackson entered the cafe to eat supper. They placed their order with Mr. Kokovinis, the proprietor, who went into the kitchen to prepare the meal. Then the two robbers began to quarrel about the robbery, with Jackson wanting to take the loot and leave town at once and Williams insisting they remain in town for a month before leaving so as not to attract any suspicion to them. The Bugle reporter hidden behind the counter heard every word.

 
The citizens of Adenville can thank the Bugle for solving what would have otherwise been a perfect crime. And remember, you always read it first in the Bugle.

   
All the reporters were as excited as all get out after reading the first edition of the Bugle and anxious to start selling it. But we had to wait until we’d printed the rest of the hundred copies and then wait for them to dry.

Then Tom handed me a copy. “You and Basil take this to Uncle Mark,” he said. “Stay with him until he has the bank robbers in jail. Then let me know so I can turn my other reporters loose selling the Bugle to the public.”

   
Basil and I ran to the Marshal’s Office. Uncle Mark was sitting in his swivel chair. I thrust a copy of the Bugle in his hands.

Uncle Mark jumped to his feet while still reading.

   
“Tom wants you to make the arrests quietly so nobody knows until they read it in the Bugle,” I said.

   
“Will do,” Uncle Mark said with a grin. Then he looked at Basil. “Thanks, Basil, and be sure you thank Tom for me. I’ll take Hank Williams first.”

“As reporters, we’ve got to see the arrest,” I said.

   
“All right, boys,” Uncle Mark said, “but just act natural. Follow me to the livery stable. I’ll go in the front but bring Williams out the back way.”

   
Basil and I were in the alley behind the livery stable when Uncle Mark came out the back way with Hank Williams and carrying a leather valise. He walked Williams up alleys as if they were just taking a friendly walk and got the man locked up in a cell without anybody noticing.

   
Then Uncle Mark opened the valise and looked at the money before he locked it up in his
rolltop
desk.

   
“I’ve got you cold, Hank,” he said to the prisoner. “Take my advice and confess and plead guilty and it will go easier for you.”

   
“What can I do but confess and plead guilty?” Williams asked sadly. “You knew where the loot was hidden and everything. Jackson must have told you.” Then he got a startled look on his face. “Where is Frank?”

“I’m on my way to arrest him now,” Uncle Mark said.

Basil and I followed Uncle Mark to the Sheepmen’s Hotel.

   
Jackson must have been in bed because it seemed like a long time before Uncle Mark came out of the rear of the hotel with the prisoner. Basil and I walked close enough to hear as Uncle Mark walked Jackson up the alley.

   
“You might as well confess and plead guilty,” Uncle Mark said. “I’ve got Hank Williams locked up and the money from the robbery. Hank confessed and is going to plead guilty.”

   
Jackson shrugged. “If that is the case, what else can I do?” he said.

   
Basil and I followed all the way up alleys and to the jail without anybody noticing anything. Uncle Mark locked Jackson in the cell next to Williams. Then he looked at Basil and me.