johnny went to the fair. it was a nice night. the stars were out.
a little old man was sitting on the ground at the entrance to the midway. he had a big hat pulled down over his face, and a jug between his feet.
how’s it going, kid? the little old man asked johnny.
great, johnny replied.
try a hit of this. the little old man offered the jug to johnny.
johnny did not hold liquor well, not like his old pappy and grandpappy, but to be polite he took a sip from the jug.
it made his eyes water. thank you kindly, he told the old man and handed the jug back with a trembling hand.
the old man looked familiar, johnny thought as he proceeded down the midway, stumbling a little bit.
that was strong stuff, johnny thought, but, dang, i only just wet my lips.
a couple of city slickers were standing in front of a cotton candy stand.
one of them was wearing a sharp blue suit and the other was wearing a sharp brown suit.
the one in the blue suit looked like a white man, and the one in the brown suit like some kind of dago or foreigner.
say, kid, how would you like to make a couple of dollars, the man in the blue suit asked johnny.
i might like it quite a bit, sir, johnny answered. it all depends.
he called you sir, said the man in the brown suit. this is a polite young man.
you a country boy? the man in the blue suit asked johnny. you look like a real country boy.
i guess i am, sir, johnny replied. i ain’t never even been to town.
you a hunter? the man in the brown suit asked. you know, go out in the woods and shoot rabbits and moose and such?
i’ve hunted all my life, sir. i mean, since i was old enough to hold a rifle.
that’s what we want to hear, said the man in the blue suit. you a good shot?
the best, sir, johhny replied. i can shoot the feathers off a hummingbird at a hundred paces, and leave him still singing. if i see two squirrels sharing an acorn on the branch of a tree, i can hit the acorn between them without harming a hair on their bodies.
well then, you sound like just the fellow for us, said the man in the blue suit. he pointed to a shooting gallery a little way down the midway, which was surrounded by a great crowd of country folk. you see, we are here to rob the bank in town, and what we need is a diversion. what is your name, by the way?
johnny.
what a coincidence. my name is john, too, john dillinger, and this here is mr al capone. as i was saying, we are here to rob the federal bank, and we need someone to create a fuss here. as city fellows we are used to using tommy guns and pistols, but not the kind of firearms used in the exhibitions of skill displayed in yonder booth. what we need is some plucky young gent such as yourself to put on such an exhibition of shooting that the attention of all far and wide is concentrated on it and we will have a clear path to robbing the bank. later we will meet up with you on the outskirts of town and cut you in for a generous share of the loot. how does that sound?
better than a kick in the face from a bee-stung mule, johnny said. but, sir, how am i to get up to shoot? it looks from here that there is quite a crowd, probably with many fellows impatiently waiting their turn.
do not worry about that, said al capone. for the man in the booth is our confederate, mr pretty boy floyd, and we will give him the high sign, and you will move to the head of the line past those other rubes.
fair enough, johnny replied. he approached the shooting gallery, and it seemed that the crowd around it parted like the red sea, and he was standing in front of the gallery with the “rifle” - really just a toy - that pretty boy floyd handed to him with a wink.
we will start off with an easy one, pretty boy floyd told the crowd and johnny. he pressed a switch and ten doves flew across the background of the gallery.
should i shoot them all? johnny asked.
all? the crowd roared with laughter. there is only one, kid, a number of people shouted.
johnny tried to hit all ten doves but the “rifle” would only fire seven or eight rubber “bullets” and he did not hit any doves. the laughter got louder behind him.
all right, kid, take a deep breath, pretty boy floyd told him. that was just beginner’s luck - bad luck. try these two rabbits.
dozens of rabbits bounded across the background. johnny sprayed rubber bullets all over the gallery - and beside and over it, but did not hit any rabbits.
he’s gonna kill somebody! somebody yelled behind him. run for your lives! but the general reaction was more and louder laughter.
here, kid, let me have that, a voice beside johnny said. he turned and saw a blonde woman in a tight red dress, with a big red hat flopped down over her face.
let me show you how it’s done, the lady in red said, and took the rifle from johnny.
here we go, said pretty boy floyd.
a bear and a bison shambled across the gallery and the lady in red plugged them both, to roars of laughter from the crowd.
johnny did not wait around to see any more. he pushed his way back through the hooting crowd.
he found himself on the outskirts of town. he left the lights behind, and started walking down the highway.
a black packard pulled up beside him. a voice asked johnny if he wanted a ride.
why not? he got in beside the driver, a burly fellow in a gray suit, with five o’clock shadow and a cigar stuck in his mouth.
where you headed? the man asked.
away.
that’s where we’re headed, the man in the gray suit said. he laughed, and someone in the back seat laughed with him.
looking for work? a voice behind johnny asked.
sure. johnny turned around. he saw a little man with a scowling face, wearing an orange suit and a red and white polka dot bow tie.
permit me to introduce myself, said the driver. my name is eliot ness. and the gentleman in the back seat is none other than mr j edgar hoover. we’re looking for a few good men.
what can you do? j edgar hoover added johhny.
i’m a sharpshooter.
you don’t say so, said j edgat hoover. he didn’t smile when he said it.
yes, sir, i do say so. i can shoot the smoke off a corncob pipe at a hundred paces. if i see two acorns falling off a tree, i can hit one and make it bounce off the other, like two pool balls.
pretty impressive, said eliot ness. we will give you a chance to show what you can do,
they drove a little further down the road and clouds drifted across the sky and the night got darker.
the car stopped. eliot ness got out and signaled to johnny to get out and join him.
they were parked beside a bumpy looking field.
eliot ness opened the trunk of the packard and took out a paper sack. he opened it and showed it to johnny. it was filled with rocks.
here’s what you do, kid. take these rocks and kill as many crows as you can with them. you got that?
yes, sir.
eliot ness got back in the car and he and j edgar hoover drove off. johnny thought he heard laughter.
johnny looked up at the sky, he did not see any crows, or anything else except the dark clouds.
the sky started to spin.
faster and faster.
johnny fell down in the mud.
in the morning little bo peep brought her sheep to the field and found johnny, still lying face down.
she turned him over to see if he was dead or alive.
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