Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Own Company; Or, Barnstorming in the Middle West онлайн

30 страница из 40

"But the money's mine, fer I sneezed it."

"With my aid—don't forget."

"Waal, I—— Ker-chew! ker-chew! ker-chew!"

No more silver fell into the hat.

"Say!" shouted the farmer, excitedly; "whut's happened? Why didn't any come then?"

"If I am to receive but ten per cent., I have decided not to assist you in producing any more," said Frank, grimly.

"Give him twenty, Josiah—give him twenty!" fluttered the farmer's wife from her seat, again waving the umbrella. "Yeou'd better do it! Yeou'll be makin' a big thing at that."

"I s'pose I'll hev to," said the man. "All reddy now! I kin feel some more sneezes comin'."

"But twenty per cent. does not satisfy me," asserted Merry.

Josiah groaned.

"Haow much do yeou want?" he asked. "Say quick!"

"You must divide equally with me, sir."

"Waal, if I must, I must. Git reddy! Here it comes! Ker-chew! ker-chew! ker-chew-eew!"

Once more there was a shower of silver, and the hat seemed well filled.

"I think we will stop with this," said the youthful magician. "Of course it would be very pleasant for us both to go on piling up money like this, but the audience would get tired, and my first duty is to carry out this performance and amuse them, as advertised."