"Where would I find Arty Gordon?" Jim Harris asked the little circus man next to him.
"He's over there in the big top watching some trick riders trying out. Tell him you're a friend of mine, and that I sent you." The little man said
"Well, thanks pal, but I don't know your name." Jim called after him.
The little man turned back with a big grin on his face, "My friends call me Jody." Then he disappeared around the maze of mobile home trailers and tents.
"Jody what?" Jim asked himself a bit confused, but he turned to the direction of the tent. "Circus people certainly have their quirks!" Jim thought to himself. "I suppose private detectives aren't free from that assumption as well..." he laughed to himself.
There was very little noise in the tent as Jim approached it. This was quite a change from the hustle and bustle outside. A gentle sound of hooves in soft dirt was the only sound in the tent, and it echoed off the canvass walls. Jim walked quietly up behind two men who were standing outside the round-pen. They were leaning against the green iron fencing and speaking in hushed tones.
"OK, Timmy, now stand up." the man in the green felt fedora called. "He's very good at this one, Mr. Gordon." he said turning to the man wearing the brown corduroy blazer. Jim watched quite amazed as the young man deftly maneuvered his feet on the back of the running horse until he was standing.
"Pretty good." said Arty Gordon in a monotone voice. "Can he go any faster? He's gonna have to keep up with Angela in the ring, and she's a champion!"
"Don't worry about that, Mr. Gordon, Timmy can keep up with anything!" the man in the green hat puffed with pride. "He has me for a trainer!" Then he looked up into the pen. "Go a little faster, Timmy!"
To be continued...
"He's over there in the big top watching some trick riders trying out. Tell him you're a friend of mine, and that I sent you." The little man said
"Well, thanks pal, but I don't know your name." Jim called after him.
The little man turned back with a big grin on his face, "My friends call me Jody." Then he disappeared around the maze of mobile home trailers and tents.
"Jody what?" Jim asked himself a bit confused, but he turned to the direction of the tent. "Circus people certainly have their quirks!" Jim thought to himself. "I suppose private detectives aren't free from that assumption as well..." he laughed to himself.
There was very little noise in the tent as Jim approached it. This was quite a change from the hustle and bustle outside. A gentle sound of hooves in soft dirt was the only sound in the tent, and it echoed off the canvass walls. Jim walked quietly up behind two men who were standing outside the round-pen. They were leaning against the green iron fencing and speaking in hushed tones.
"OK, Timmy, now stand up." the man in the green felt fedora called. "He's very good at this one, Mr. Gordon." he said turning to the man wearing the brown corduroy blazer. Jim watched quite amazed as the young man deftly maneuvered his feet on the back of the running horse until he was standing.
"Pretty good." said Arty Gordon in a monotone voice. "Can he go any faster? He's gonna have to keep up with Angela in the ring, and she's a champion!"
"Don't worry about that, Mr. Gordon, Timmy can keep up with anything!" the man in the green hat puffed with pride. "He has me for a trainer!" Then he looked up into the pen. "Go a little faster, Timmy!"
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment