The Magician Read Online Free PDF

Fredericks’ hand.
    “What I am now going to do,” said Ed, “is to bring the guillotine down and cut through Mr. Fredericks’ arm at the wrist and through the carrot, leaving the carrot miraculously whole and Mr. Fredericks’ arm in two pieces.”
    The audience roared.
    “I didn’t mean that. I meant the other way around.”
    Mr. Fredericks’ brain had given up on the trick.
    “Sir,” said Ed, “since my handkerchief is tied around your wrist, I wonder if I might borrow yours?”
    Mr. Fredericks looked surprised. “Don’t worry,” said Ed, “I won’t blow my nose in it.”
    With his free hand Mr. Fredericks removed his elegant handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to Ed, who proceeded to mop Mr. Fredericks’ brow. Ed again had to hold up both hands for silence.
    “One,” he counted.
    “Two,” he counted. Then he relaxed and said, “Mr. Fredericks, did I ever tell you the story about…” He looked at Mr. Fredericks’ face. He’d better get on with it. “One!” he began again. “Two!”
    Then, with just a second’s beat, “THREE!” And Ed brought the guillotine smashing down.
    Every eye in the room was fixed on the blade as it descended through Mr. Fredericks’ bandaged hand and the carrot below it. From the impact, the cut carrot’s halves went hurtling one in front and one to the rear of the guillotine. Mr. Fredericks’ knees sagged.
    In an instant two or three students and the gym teacher were up on the platform holding Mr. Fredericks under the armpits as Ed raised the blade and freed the hand, which was entirely intact, a fact that surprised Mr. Fredericks more than anyone. He had not fainted, and now he wanted it to seem that he had merely played along to help the dramatic effect. And so he brushed off his rescuers and smiled at Ed and the thudding, stomping, applauding audience.
    It was at that moment that Ed saw Urek and the three members of his gang stand up in the front row. In two swift movements Urek vaulted onto the stage, saying, “Lemme see that blade!”
    Of course you can’t examine the blade, thought Ed: It’ll give the trick away. But he was too late—Urek had seized the guillotine and was trying to pull it apart.
    “Let go of that guillotine,” said Ed.
    “It’s not sharp,” said Urek, running his hand along the blade.
    “It cut the apple,” said Ed in desperation. “It cut the carrot.”
    Mr. Fredericks, regaining his composure, touched Urek’s arm. “You’d better get back to your seat.”
    “It’s a trick!” said Urek.
    “Of course it’s a trick,” said Ed, trying to wrest the guillotine away without breaking it.
    “Tell us how you did it.”
    “He’s not supposed to,” said Mr. Fredericks. “You get back to your seat.”
    “I’ll break it,” said Urek, “unless you tell us how you did it.”
    In the melee, Jerry Samuelson had got himself onto the platform. Two or three years earlier, when he was a kid, he had been given a miniature guillotine, big enough for a finger or a cigarette, not an arm or a carrot. He knew the principle on which it worked, but couldn’t figure out what Ed Japhet had just done.
    “What did you do with the other blade?” he asked Ed.
    “What other blade?” said Ed; then, thinking fast, he said to Urek, “Put your hand in the hole.”
    Samuelson and Mr. Fredericks were suddenly silent.
    “Whadya mean?” asked Urek.
    “Put your hand through the hole.”
    “And?”
    “I’ll cut it off. Like this.” Ed took the guillotine out of Urek’s hands and put it on the table. He bent over and picked up off the floor half of the apple he had split. He put the apple into the hole and then with a sudden slam of his hand sent the blade smashing down. The apple split, the pieces flying with force, front and back.
    “Now your hand,” said Ed to Urek.
    The audience watched in silence.
    “If it’s a trick,” said Ed, “you’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”
    “Who’s afraid?”
    “Put your hand in