excerpt
“Mr. Clarkson, you don’t sound like a hobo. You sound like a
lawyer.”
“I was a lawyer, sir. I disbarred myself.”
As Engine Fred returned to his seat, Spear said, “Gentlemen
and lady of the council, we will consider all we have heard this
afternoon as we take under advisement the matter of possible legislation
concerning hobos—and others. We will discuss the question
at the next regular meeting of the council. I thank all who spoke
today. The hearing is adjourned.”
Councilmen gathered their papers. People in the audience rose,
stretched and began moving toward the big mahogany doors. They
saw Engine Fred deep in conversation with Judge Winter. Pete
Torgerson stalked toward the door behind the council table, ignoring
the Daily Dispatch reporter who jumped up and followed him,
notebook at the ready, lobbing questions. Sam Winter rose and
quickly made his way to the front of the room. Engine Fred saw
the mayor listen to the judge, frown and look at his watch. He said
something to Winter as he left the chamber.
“In ten minutes,” Sam said when he returned. “His office is
through that door, down the hall. You’ll see the double doors at the
end.”
Sam looked toward the aisle.”Oh, oh,” he said, “I’m leaving.”
The young man with the reporters notebook was scuttling sideways
past the seats in their row. Engine Fred got up quickly, but
the man was at his side.
“Ned Pease from The Daily Dispatch, Mr. Clarkson,” he said.
“I’d just like to ask you a question or two.”
“I thought you might,” Engine Fred said. “I don’t have anything
to say.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask anyway. How long have you
known Poodie James?”
“Twenty-one years and a few weeks. He brought me apples
when I was staying in the jungle near his orchard.”
“How long have you been a hobo, sir?”
Libros Libertad 