Carter Beats the Devil Read Online Free PDF

and sequins glittered by her eyes in the half-light. Harding cast but a brief glance at Baby, the lion, before approaching the elephant’s cage. “Is it safe?”
    “Oh yes. Here.” Carter handed the President a peanut. With deliberation, Harding showed the peanut to the elephant, who took it with her trunk and put it into her mouth.
    “It tickled when she touched my palm. Do you have more peanuts?”
    Carter handed Harding a whole bag, which Harding had to keep away from the elephant’s probing trunk.
    “What is her name?”
    “I call her Tug.”
    “I like her. She’s very quiet. You always think of elephants trumpeting and stampeding and so forth. But you don’t act naughty, do you, Tug?” Harding touched Tug’s trunk as it found more peanuts. “Do you always need to keep her chained up?”
    “Luckily, no. Tug lives on a farm about a hundred miles south. When we go on tour, she is cramped up, but not much more so than the rest of us.”
    Harding brought his eye near Tug’s, so they could look at each other. “I wish she could always be on her farm.”
    “Have you met Baby?”
    Harding shrugged. “Not much of a cat man. Allergic, you know. I have a dog.”
    “Of course. Laddie Boy.”
    Harding beamed, looking surprised. “You know him?” Then his face fell. “How foolish of me. Mr. Carter, for a moment I forgot I was President.” He fell silent, and directed himself to feeding the rest of the bag of peanuts to Tug. When he spoke again, it was to mutter, “I’ve been counting dogs these last few minutes. I’ve owned many dogs. People are so cruel to dogs, aren’t they? When I was a lad, I had Jumbo, who was a great big Irish setter. He was poisoned. And then Hub, a pug. Someone poisoned him, I’m sure it was the boy next door, who never liked him. Laddie Boy is lucky, if anyone poisoned him, it would be national headlines. Quite a scandal.” Tug’s trunk ran against his hands, which he held forth, palms out. “Sorry, sweetheart, all gone. You’ve eaten all the peanuts.”

    “Mr. President, we should discuss what part of the act you might appear in.”
    “Mmm? I was just thinking how tremendous it would be to have a pet elephant. It would be like a dream, wouldn’t it? If I had an elephant, I would walk him down to the shops on F Street, and, Lord, imagine the expression on the grocer’s face when the Duchess went for her produce!” Harding tilted his head toward the rafters. Even in the dimness, his face looked ravaged. “A pet elephant!” He smiled as if cheerful, and in that moment, Carter saw that the President of the United States had that awful, borrowed smile of a man who has seen too much.
    “Mr. President—”
    “I have a sister in Burma. She’s a missionary. One of the natives had an elephant who was old and dying. He tried to run off and die alone. I think the keeper couldn’t bear that, so he put his elephant in a cage. As long as the elephant could see his keeper by his side, he was calm, but if he left even for a moment, he became distraught. And when the elephant’s eyesight failed, he would feel for the keeper with his trunk. That’s how he finally died, you know, with his trunk wrapped around his best friend’s hand.”
    Harding stood away from the cage, turning his back and bringing his big hands over his face. His shoulders quaked, and the floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight. Carter was aware of motorcars passing outside, people laughing over dinner, bankers and factory workers and phone operators and ditchdiggers and chorus girls and attorneys speeding right now through their lives, gay and so very far beyond the four walls of this soundproof stage.
    Harding faced him. He sniffed, bringing his voice under control. “Carter, if you knew of a great and terrible secret, would you for the good of the country expose it or bury it?”
    Carter could see dire need in Harding’s face. It lit him up like electricity. As was Carter’s way since Sarah had died,