Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set

by Richard Mason

  “I really wonder what goin’ on in that shed,” I said.

  “So do I, Richard, and you know what?”

  “Naw, what?”

  “We’re gonna find out.”

  I smiled and nodded my head ’cause I’d been thinking the very same thing. Heck, trying to run off me and John Clayton was just the absolutely the most stupidest thing you could do if you were trying to keep something a secret. I took a look at Sniffer and said, “And we ain’t gonna have no cowardly hound dog to give us away when we come sneakin’ back.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Upside-Down Funny Book

  The next Monday I got to school a few minutes early, and me and John Clayton was standing out in front of the main door talking with Tiny. Tiny―or The Tub―is one big kid. Heck, he ain’t just big, he’s fat as a hog. Well, anyway, he’s a real good friend, and he’s one of our gang. Tiny was telling us how he ate a whole chicken last Sunday when the preacher, who was supposed to have Sunday dinner with them, got sick and couldn’t make it. Heck, you should have heard Tiny tell how he gobbled up that hen.

  Well, about that time Ears, our other good friend, came walking up carrying a funny book. Yeah, you might just guess, Ears has got some whoppers―you know, ears― and they stick out like a couple of saucers. Shoot, Ears is really proud of them ears, and he can actually wiggle and kinda wave them. I guess his ears wouldn’t show up so much if he didn’t have one of them G. I. haircuts. Heck, I ain’t no expert on hair or clothes, but even I know tall, skinny kids with big ears shouldn’t cut off all their hair.

  “Y’all take a look at this,” Ears said. He was waving a Captain Marvel funny book. Well, it ain’t nothing for Ears to have funny books. In fact he’s probably the world’s record funny book owner, and nobody, but nobody, has anywhere near as many funny books as Ears. Well, Ears held up the Captain Marvel funny book for us to see, and it looked just like any other Captain Marvel funny book, but Ears kept waving it around like it was real different.

  “Y’all must be blind. Look! Look when I turn it round!”

  “Well, I’ll be,” I said, “the front cover’s upside-down.” And it was. The back cover was just like it should be, but the front was upside-down.

  ’Course, Ears thought he had something that was real special and worth a bunch of money, like fifty dollars or something, and he took it into class and our teacher, Mrs. Smith, let him hold it up and show it to everybody. When I was sitting there looking at the upside-down funny book, I kept thinking of something that I’d seen somewhere that was printed upside-down. That afternoon I asked Daddy if he’d ever heard of anything like Ears’s upside-down funny book.

  “Well, Richard, I did read a while back about some stamps that came out of the post office with something printed upside-down. They only printed a few, and stamp collectors have them now.”

  “What was upside-down, Daddy?”

  “It seems like it was an airmail stamp, and the airplane on the stamp was upside-down.”

  That afternoon when I met John Clayton, I told him what Daddy had said, and, heck, if the stamp collectors thought them stamps was worth something, maybe an upside-down funny book cover would be worth more than a little old stamp. Heck, I figured maybe the upside-down funny book would be worth at least a hundred dollars.

  John Clayton thought I might be right, and we headed over to his house to look up the stamps in the World Book.

  “Shoot, Richard, if them danged stamps is a big deal, they’ll be in the World Book.”

  Sure enough they were, and when we turned to the page, there was a big picture of a 1918 airmail stamp with the airplane on the front, upside-down.

  “Yeah, here it is,” said John Clayton.

  “See if it says anything about ’em being worth a lot of money,” I said.

  “Okay, it says right here: “The 1918 inverted airmail stamps are one of the most highly sought-after stamps in the world. Each stamp is worth thousands of dollars.”

  “What? Let me see that?” I yelled.

  Well, me and John Clayton poured over the World Book and read everything about them stamps. When we finished, I looked at John Clayton. “Dang, Ears’s funny book may be worth thousands of dollars.”

  “Yeah, Richard, and if little-bitty stamps are worth that much, just think how much a great big funny book might be worth! Thousands! Thousands of dollars! Maybe even a million!”

  “Oh my gosh!”

  Well, we talked back and forth, and we were about to head downtown to find Ears and tell him what it said in the World Book, but then I looked at John Clayton. I had an idea.

  “What if Ears decided to trade that funny book?”

  “Heck, Richard, he ain’t ’bout to trade that funny book. Shoot, he carries it round with him in that special little folder like it’s something from God.”

  “Yeah, but he really don’t know how much that funny book is worth. What if we offered him a whole bunch of our funny books? Heck, he might trade the upside-down one to us.”

  Gosh, I could just about see dollar signs in John Clayton’s eyes!

  “Oh, my lord, Richard, we might get thousands of dollars for that funny book!”

  I was thinking about how many funny books we might have to trade while John Clayton sat there with a puzzled look on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, Richard, Ears is a good friend. Should we give him some of the money?”

  Well, that made sense, and I’ll admit I was kinda feeling the same way.

  “Yeah, let’s give Ears a hundred dollars when we sell the funny book.”

  “Dang, Richard, if we get thousands, don’t you think we should give Ears more than a hundred dollars?”

  I guess a hundred dollars did sound a little low, so we spent the next thirty minutes deciding how much of the money we were gonna give Ears. Finally, we came up with a thousand dollars; that is if we got as much as a hundred thousand dollars for the upside-down funny book.

  “Heck, if we hadn’t found out how much that funny book was worth, Ears would’ve probably just got tired of carryin’ it around and traded it for three or four new funny books,” I said.

  We slammed the World Book shut and headed downtown to find Ears. I figured Ears would probably want twenty or thirty funny books for his upside-down Captain Marvel, but Ears shocked us.

  “That’s right, three hundred, and they better be almost new and have all their covers on ’em.”

  “My gosh, Ears, three hundred? You gotta to be kiddin’! You’re out of your ever-lovin’ mind!” I said.

  “No, I ain’t ’cause they ain’t another one like it anywhere in the whole entire world, and it could be worth a hundred dollars.”

  I gave John Clayton a little, “he don’t have no idea” look, and then we tried to trade Ears down from the three-hundred figure. Well, when Ears saw we really wanted that upside-down funny book, he wouldn’t lower the number he’d take. We left Ears still bragging about that danged funny book and headed for my house to see how many funny books I had.

  “…47, 48, 49, 50, 51―shoot, that ain’t near enough. How many do you have at your house?”

  “I don’t know, Richard, but probably ’bout the same as you.”

  “Dang, we’re gonna be two hundred books short.”

  Well, John Clayton looked at me and nodded his head, and we both knew coming up with another two hundred funny books was gonna be our project for as long as it took.

  The next day at school we were standing out in front of the door to the main classroom building, talking ’bout how to come up with two hundred more funny books.

  “There ain’t but a couple of ways to get all them funny books, Richard. We either gotta trade stuff or just buy ’em.”

  “Yeah. Hey, here comes Connie. I’ll ask her if she’ll sell us hers.” Connie had been my girlfriend last year, but she’d broken up with me ’cause she said I was still mooning over Rosalie Davis, the prettiest girl in our class and th
e one with the bluest eyes you ever did see. Gosh, those eyes just melt me, and I’ll admit I haven’t forgotten Rosalie. Heck, last December I worked like a dog to buy Rosalie a red scarf, and I gave it to her on Christmas Eve. She really seemed to like it and I thought we were for sure boy and girlfriend, but since then she’s acted kinda funny. Heck, I can’t figure out girls.

  “Hey, Connie,” I hollered.

  Connie is kinda skinny like me, and she has short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Heck, Connie’s okay, except for one thing: She’s always showing up the boys in our class. Shoot, last year, at the End of School Race, she almost outran me. Uh, wait a minute; I’m lyin’ like a sorry yard dog again―if I hadn’t cheated by sticking out my arm, she’d a won. ’Course, I called it a draw, but I knew she’d cleaned my plow

  Connie walked up, and we kidded around for a few minutes, and then I asked her about selling us her funny books.

  “Connie, me and John Clayton are trying to collect a bunch of funny books. How about sellin’ us yours?”

  “Well, I don’t know. How much are you offerin’?”

  “Uh, well.” Heck, I didn’t have a clue on god’s green earth how much to offer Connie so I said, “How ’bout a penny each?”

  Connie gave me one of them looks, like, “Are you that stupid?” and said, “A penny? Why don’t you just ask me to give you all my funny books?”

  “Well, okay.” Heck, that was really a stupid thing to say because Connie just flipped her short blonde hair and walked away.

  “For gosh sakes, Richard, we’ll never get another two hundred funny books if you act like that.”

  “I know it. Shoot, I guess we’ll hafta come up with more’n a penny each.”

  “You idiot! Nobody is gonna sell you their funny books for a few cents. Heck, I’ll bet it’ll take a nickel to buy ’em.”

  “Well, if it takes a nickel to buy one, we ain’t gonna buy very many.”

  We were still talking about how much we could pay when that worthless Homer Ray Parks, the class bully, walked up and shoved John Clayton outta the way.

  “Hey, watch it, you stupid moron!” I said. Heck, I knew sorry Homer Ray wouldn’t touch me ’cause my daddy told his daddy that he was gonna whip up on him if Homer Ray ever picked on me again. I got right up in his face and gave him one of them sneers that I’d seen at the picture show.

  “Go ahead and hit me, you big, stupid idiot!”

  “Drop dead, Richard!” Homer Ray said. Then he jumped over and grabbed John Clayton and started choking him with a neck hold, while he ground his fist into John Clayton’s hair.

  “I’m hollering for Mr. Freeman, if you don’t turn ‘em loose!” I yelled. Heck, Mr. Freeman is the school principal, and he’d like nothing better than to whip up on Homer Ray. Well. Homer Ray kinda roughed up John Clayton a little more, laughed like some wild hyena, and walked into the school building.

  “Richard, we gotta do something! That sorry son-of-a-gun is taking everything out on me since he can’t get back at you!”

  “Yeah, one of these days we’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget. You know Homer Ray is dumb as a stump, and we’ll get him so bad you won’t believe it.”

  “Dang, I hope so. Shoot, I can’t take much more of his bullying.”

  That sorry Homer Ray is almost as tall as I am, but I’ll bet he weighs thirty pounds more’n me. He has buck teeth and light blond scraggly hair. Shoot, we’ve got a mule that ain’t that ugly. Uh, huh, you guessed it―big, dumb, and ugly.

  Well, we were still griping about Homer Ray when Rosalie and her good friend Freckles walked up. Freckles walked over to talk with me and John Clayton, and I figured Rosalie would just walk on in the building and not speak since she’d been acting kinda stuck-up. But just as Freckles walked up, Rosalie caught my eye and smiled, and I’ll swear she winked at me. What in the world? I thought as Freckles began talking about the picture show we’d seen at the Ritz Theater Saturday. Well, I was all “uh and huhs” and just kept nodding my head like I was listening to Freckles. Finally, after I agreed with something that was just plain stupid, Freckles said, “Richard, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said. What wrong with you?”

  “Homer Ray, Freckles. I was thinkin’ how to get even with him for pickin’ on John Clayton,” I lied.

  Freckles looked at me. Heck, girls can tell in a minute when you’re lying.

  “Richard, if you knew how stupid that sounded… .” Then Freckles shrugged her shoulders, walked off, and yelled back, “Talk to me later when you’ve turned on your pea brain.”

  “For god’s sake, Richard, what sent you into that blank?”

  ’Course, I wasn’t about to tell John Clayton that Rosalie had smiled and winked at me.

  “Hey, wait a minute! Rosalie. It was Rosalie, wasn’t it?”

  “Naw, I was just thinkin’ ’bout how to get them two hundred funny books.”

  “You liar! It was Rosalie! Dang, Richard, that girl can jerk you around like some old dog chewin’ on a squirrel. Shoot, she was just bein’ nice to you last Christmas to get a present.”

  “No, she wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, she was, and you’re still moonin’ after her.”

  Well, I tried to deny it was Rosalie, but finally I just admitted it. “Yeah, she smiled and winked at me.”

  “And you went into zombie mode, huh?”

  “Heck, I was just so surprised, ’cause she’s been actin’ different since Christmas Eve.”

  “Ha, she’s just a rich girl that only thinks about what she can get. Heck, wait till Valentine’s Day comes up, and she’ll start bein’ all lovey-dovey again.”

  Well, John Clayton had said what I had kinda been thinking, but I danged sure wasn’t gonna admit it. And, heck, what if she really does like me and is just being hard to get? I couldn’t think of nothing to say back to John Clayton, but I was saved by the bell.

  “There’s the bell―let’s go!”

  Shoot, I was glad when we went into class. John Clayton can’t stand Rosalie, and he laughed and kidded me until we sat down at our desks.

  As soon as school was out, I headed home at a trot. I was anxious to feed the mules and chickens where me and John Clayton could head out and do something. Heck, I had them mules and chickens fed in no time a-tall, and pretty soon me and John Clayton was just tramping around in the woods. Well, ’course, we didn’t have a plan to go nowhere special so we decided to stop by and visit old Uncle Hugh.

  Heck, that afternoon some kinda cold front started blowing in and by the time we got to Uncle Hugh’s house, that north wind had picked up and we was cold as all get out, and just the thought of standing in front of Uncle Hugh’s big fireplace warming up was enough to have us running toward his little cabin. ’Course, warming up in front of the fireplace and visiting with Uncle Hugh is fun, but that ain’t the onlyest reason we come by to see him. Shoot, he’s always telling us stories about the olden days―you know, way back when Uncle Hugh was a little boy and things was a bunch different around here.

  It didn’t take us but a few minutes to reach the lane that led to his cabin, and pretty soon, as we topped a little rise, I could see him on the porch. We was freezing and we started running and yelling at Uncle Hugh.

  “Uncle Hugh, Uncle Hugh! How you doin’?” I yelled as we ran up.

  “Just fine, boys, but I’m ’bout ready to go back in by the fire ’cause this north wind done got cold.”

  “Well, we’re freezin’ too, Uncle Hugh. We’re gonna join ya,” said John Clayton.

  Uncle Hugh had already built a roaring fire in his fireplace, and we plopped down sitting cross-legged in front of the fire.

  “Boys, how ’bout a little hot chocolate?”

  “Sure,” we both said.

  Uncle Hugh fixed us hot chocolate and pulled his rocking chair up by the fire and we started talking.

  Gosh, sittin’ by the fire, drinking hot chocolate and talking with Uncle Hugh was great. I’ll bet we’ve been right there a h
undred times, or if it was summertime we’d sit out on Uncle Hugh’s front porch. The hot chocolate is always great and in the summertime Uncle Hugh gives us glasses of cold spring water, but, heck the hot chocolate and spring water don’t hold a candle to his stories, especially his ghost stories.

  Well, John Clayton sipped a little of his hot chocolate and looked up at Uncle Hugh.

  “Uncle Hugh, you ain’t told us a ghost story in a long time. Do you know any ghost stories from around here?”

  ’Course, John Clayton was always asking Uncle Hugh to tell us a ghost story, and most of the time he’d just make up some wild tale that happened a long way off, and we’d just sit there and listen while Uncle Hugh waved his arms and walked around like some old black ghost. Well, Uncle Hugh sat there and rocked for a few minutes just thinking and then he kinda smiled like he’d thought of something.

  “Hummm, let’s see. Well, okay, boys, I just remembered something that happened years ago down in that swamp, but it’s a little gruesome. It might upset y’all.”

  “Oh, Uncle Hugh, we ain’t little kids. We’re eleven going on twelve.”

  “Okay, boys, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I looked at John Clayton and he kinda grinned, like he weren’t a-scared of nothing, and I nodded.

  “Y’all knows I used to work on the railroad?”

  “Yes, sir, wasn’t you a brakeman?”

  “That’s right, Richard, and I worked for the Missouri Pacific on the Little Rock to El Dorado run. Well, I’d been workin’ a late night run to Little Rock when some really strange things happened, and it all started when we was just out of El Dorado goin’ at top speed headin’ north.”

  “Was there a ghost on the train, Uncle Hugh?”

  “Naw, John Clayton, but it was worse than a ghost. They was a terrible accident.”

  “A train wreck?”

  “That’s right, Richard, and it happened just ’bout midnight when we had a full throttle of steam. My goodness we was just flyin’ up the tracks ’cause we’d got a late start and the engineer was tryin’ to make up time. Well, it was back in 1926 sometime during the summer; I can’t rightly remember the date. Y’all knows back then they was a big oil boom going on round here, and people was a-haulin’ stuff out to the oil fields with big teams of mules and oxen. Well, we rounded a curve heading for the O’Rear Highway Crossing, and all of a sudden the engineer throwed on the brake, and I banged up against the seat in the caboose where I was ridin’. The fireman done told me later that he and the engineer was just workin’ away when they looked down the tracks and seen a man wavin’ a lantern tryin’ to stop the train. Well, the engineer slammed on the brake, and the train started skiddin’ toward a stop, but we was pullin’ twelve coaches and you just don’t stop no train like that on a dime. No, sir, it takes a lot of track to bring that big engine and all them cars to a stop.”