Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 154: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

944 state of hypnosis, after which he is to be placed in a wooden box and lowcred six feet in the ground, where he is to remain for the period of six days and nights without food or drink. This is being done as an experiment in the interests of science and the world in general, If the experiment proves a success, it will mean that anesthetics will no longer have to be administered prior to an operation as a means of benumbing a paticnt’s sensibill- ties. The public is invited to attend. After Clem read the weird announce- ment, he gives a whinny of fear. ‘What d’yer mean, as an experiment?” he demands. ‘ If they is any monkey busi- ness about this job I’m gonna quit now!” ‘“My boy,” soothes Joe, ‘‘ it’s all in fun. I couldn’t hypnotize a bowlegged fish hawk. Don’t worry, you'll be awake all the time. All you gotta do is make a bluff that you’re hypnotized, and keep perfectly quiet. I'll attend to the rest. You'll get some real money at the end of the experi- ment.” He sure did. But me and Joe never figured on that part! IIT, MONDAY AFTERNOON arrived on time, and so did the crowd. ‘Thanks to the blurb in the lVeekly Wow, which was a shade better than anything ever hatched out by the Grimm Brothers, the mob in front of the tent was google-eyed with curiosity. Of course, we kept them waiting outside as long as possible, that being a part of the showman’s bag of tricks. ple that see other people in front of a show, the more people will join the other people in front of the show. Simple, huh? Meantime, inside the tent, Joe, Clem Clinker and me had dug a hole in the ground, six feet deep and two feet in width. Just large enough to fit a wooden box. At the end of this box we attached a shaft that acted like a periscope. The big idea, and it was some idea,,was to sink the box in the ground, with Mr. Clem Clinker on board, and have the shaft stick up above the surface about three feet. Now, through this shaft, the dear public would be able to look down and have a peep at Clem, while he was supposed to be The more peo- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. hypnotized into a deep snooze. In order that they could see the head and shoulders of our subject, we suspends a light in the box, midway, just enough to satisfy the customers that we actually had the goop down there, as advertised. The people was supposed to file past, take a peep in the deep, and then be on their way. Of course, just as soon as the tent was empty, Clem would wiggle up through the shaft, and walk around to the dressing tent, in the rear, and hide. In different words, we had no intention of leaving Clem down there for the full week, as the customers thought. At the same time, believe you me, had we known how Clem was gonna turn out—sweet sugar!—we would of kept "im down the hole until the moon turns a backflip! Half an hour after I begin to sell the tickets, there was standing room only. We charged a quarter a smack to man, woman, child or whatever you happened to be. The push blew in so fast that Joe comes dash- ing out front, rubbing his hands. ““T guess we’re pretty good showmien, huh?” I says. ‘* Showmen!” echoes Joseph. ‘“ Kid, we’re world-beaters!’’? Ten minutes later we start the show. Come along in and take a look at this: In the rear of the tent, Professor Dr. Joseph Sweeney paces around and around the wooden box and the excavation, with his hands behind his back, and apparently in deep thought. In order that he might look like something besides a hard boiled bandit or a gunman, Joe has bought a pair of them horn-rim hoot-owl glasses, which he has plastered on his face. He also rents a Tuxedo from some waiter, or the like, and it fits him like a kid glove fits an elephant’s hind leg. On his red head he’s wearing a plug hat that Thomas Jefferson must of quit wearing before he ran for President. Beside the wooden box stands Mr. Clem Clinker, getting stage fright each time Joe walks around him. _ First he’d look at the top of the tent, switch his weight from the right to the left leg, then he'd blink at the audience and gaze at the wooden box. A scared boob was Mr. Clinker! Suddenly, Professor Dr. Sweeney—(ha 9A An (C@) GIOok