Flaming Zeppelins Read Online Free PDF Page A

show.”
    â€œNot The Wild West Show, he doesn’t,” Buntline said, hoping Cody would remember this later and offer him a bottle from his good stock of special whiskey.
    â€œNot yet,” Cody said. “But he makes me nervous. This is the first show where cutting up a man was part of our arrival celebration. Cast and crew, Annie I know, were more than a little upset. Could affect their performance, and if it’s one place we want to look good, it’s here.”
    â€œWould you like a little crank?” Buntline asked.
    â€œNot just yet,” Cody said.
    They rode the rest of the way in silence.
    Parade over, The Wild West Show was quickly constructed. The show was a traveling community with carpenters, painters, blacksmiths, tailors, doctors, barbers, stock handlers, gunsmiths, boot and shoemakers, washers and ironers, cooks and prostitutes. Everyone had a job and did it with speed and precision.
    Tents leapt from the ground, poked summit poles at the sky. Corrals snapped together and the stock was thunderously yee-hawed inside. Water tanks were filled, food tents were packed with supplies and tables.
    Inside Cody’s tent, the tip of which was peaked with the American flag, the steam man was in the process of being painted so he would appear to be wearing a buckskin jacket, cream trousers, and a crimson shirt dotted with blue and white prairie flowers. Over this, colored beads and soft leather tassels would be glued in the appropriate places. The jar containing Cody’s head would be attached, different boots would be placed on the steam man’s feet; they would be dark-chocolate-colored knee-highs with bright red suns on the toes as a goodwill gesture to the Japanese empire. Last but not least, a wide-brimmed, white hat with a beaded hat band would be pushed down over the top of the jar.
    Goober, the midget, would be inside the steam man, out of sight, wearing nothing more than a g-string, fighting the heat, fighting the gears, the little steam-powered fan in the neck of the machine blowing hot air down his back.
    When the show was over, Goober would be hosed down, laid out and fanned by four assistants. Cooled, Goober would be hosed again, dried, fed, then allowed to sleep.
    The steam man would be cleaned with turpentine and soap, dried, ready to be repainted. Cody had discovered long ago that, with the exception of the boots and hat, dressing the steam man made him look too bulky. This method kept him streamlined. From a distance, even relatively close, no one could tell it was paint and showmanship instead of clothes.
    That night, electric lights powered by the show’s steam generators, as well as strings of bright Japanese lanterns strung on high poles, illuminated the scene. Around the field The Wild West Show had thrown up rows of bleachers as well as concession stands where taffy, popped corn, parched peanuts, cotton candy and American beer could be bought.
    Once the show started, the crowd, though not particularly loud or rowdy to begin with, went stone silent. Soon Annie was at work doing her trick shooting. Her husband and helper, Frank, was gone, but now she had Hickok to assist her, keeping her guns loaded, her props in place. She started by having Hickok release four clay pigeons simultaneously.
    The moment they were sprung, she ran toward the bench where her guns lay, leapt over it, grabbed up a Winchester, and burst all the launched targets before they could touch the ground.
    A roar went up from the crowd. They were not only amazed at her marksmanship, but at the rifle itself, as Japanese exposure to fine firearms was limited.
    More clay pigeons were released and burst. A playing card was cut. Strings dangling from a hat were picked off one by one at a great distance. One impossible shot after another was made.
    Finished, Annie raised her arms, slowly bowed. The normally sedate Japanese warriors broke into a cheer. Takeda, sitting on a stool at the front of his