SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 181 | Next

Fitzgerald, F. Scott (Francis Scott), 1896-1940

"Tales of the Jazz Age"

"
"And no luck?"
"Some. Fourteen of them reported to my agent they'd each killed a man
answering to that description, but of course it was probably only the
reward they were after---"
He broke off. They had come to a large cavity in the earth about the
circumference of a merry-go-round, and covered by a strong iron
grating. Braddock Washington beckoned to John, and pointed his cane
down through the grating. John stepped to the edge and gazed.
Immediately his ears were assailed by a wild clamor from below.
"Come on down to Hell!"
"Hallo, kiddo, how's the air up there?"
"Hey! Throw us a rope!"
"Got an old doughnut, Buddy, or a couple of second-hand sandwiches?"
"Say, fella, if you'll push down that guy you're with, we'll show you
a quick disappearance scene."
"Paste him one for me, will you?"
It was too dark to see clearly into the pit below, but John could tell
from the coarse optimism and rugged vitality of the remarks and voices
that they proceeded from middle-class Americans of the more spirited
type. Then Mr. Washington put out his cane and touched a button in the
grass, and the scene below sprang into light.
"These are some adventurous mariners who had the misfortune to
discover El Dorado," he remarked.
Below them there had appeared a large hollow in the earth shaped like
the interior of a bowl. The sides were steep and apparently of
polished glass, and on its slightly concave surface stood about two
dozen men clad in the half costume, half uniform, of aviators.


Pages:
169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193