It's a pretty good job
when you want to lie low."
"Lie low, huh? Why, what's the matter?" Harry asked.
"Cracky, I never saw Jib Jab so serious before." He said, "Oh, I was just
one of the heroes that didn't get a job, that's all. I'm a happy-go-lucky."
"Same here," Harry said, and he just kept looking at him, awful sharp and
searching, kind of.
"I came back from France broke."
"Same here," Harry said.
"And I just thought I'd try to pull together a bit before I hit the trail
for home," Jib Jab went on. "I had a little over two hundred dollars to
bring home to my old dad, but they relieved me of it in a sailors' dance
hall over in Brest."
"Live up near Plattsburg, eh?"
"Yop, and I started home as soon as I was mustered out, but didn't make it.
Just couldn't face the old folks--busted. I tried to get a job in Albany,
in Poughkeepsie; nothing doing. Worked for a couple of days for a farmer
over here in Elm Center, then hit the circus. Circus is a great place when
you're down and out. Ever work in a circus?"
"I kinder think I'd like to," Harry said; "I've done most everything else.
Pages:
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146