PAGE 8
The Eagle’s Claws
by
Simultaneously there was an exclamation from Mr. Medderbrook, a cry from Syrilla, and a short, sharp yell from outside the tent. Mr. Gubb entered, spurs first, creeping backward under the canvas. As he backed from under the platform it was observed that he held a shoe–about No. 8 size–in one hand, and that a foot was in the shoe, and the foot on a leg, and the leg on a short, plump, elderly German-American, who yelled as he was dragged into the tent on his back. In one hand of the German-American was a large silver golf cup with a deep dent on one side. As Mr. Gubb arose to his feet, still holding the German-American tattoo artist’s foot in his hand, he said:–
“Mr. Medderbrook, the deteckative business is not always completely satisfactory in all kinds of respects, and it looks as if it appeared that the daughter I found for you is somebody else’s, but if you will look at the other end of the assaulter and batterer I have in hand, you will see that I have recovered the silver golf cup trophy once again for the second time.”
“And that,” said Mr. Medderbrook as he took the cup from the German-American’s hand, “is remarkable work. The ordinary detective is usually satisfied to recover stolen property once, but you have recovered this cup twice.”
“The motto of my deteckative business,” said Mr. Gubb modestly, “is ‘Perfection, no matter how many times.'”
Mr. Gubb might have said more, but he was interrupted by Princess Zozo, the Snake Charmer, who had walked around Syrilla and unhooked two of the hooks at the top of Syrilla’s low-necked gown.
“Look!” she exclaimed, and she pointed to a second pair of eagle’s claws tattooed between Syrilla’s shoulder blades. Without a word Mr. Medderbrook took five hundred dollars from his purse and handed them to Mr. Schreckenheim.
“That pays you for the cup,” he said. And then, turning to Syrilla: “Come to my arms, my long-lost daughter!”
After Syrilla had hugged her father affectionately, Mr. Gubb and the freaks laid him on the ground and, by fanning him vigorously, were able to bring him back to life. Mr. Medderbrook’s first act upon opening his eyes was to hold out his hand to Mr. Gubb.
“Thank you, Gubb,” he panted. “It’s a big price, but I’ll keep my word. The ten thousand dollars shall be yours.”
“Into ordinary circumstances,” said Mr. Gubb gravely, “ten thousand dollars would be a largely big price to pay for recovering back a lost daughter, Mr. Medderbrook, but into the present case it don’t amount to more than ten dollars per pound of daughter, which ain’t a largely great rate per pound.”