THE DANGEROUS SCARECROW
by Carl JacobiBoth Mr. Maudsley and Mr. Trask were resplendent that October evening. Mr. Maudsley stood deep in the cornfield, overall trousers ballooning in the wind, one hand nailed to a pie-tin that caught the moonlight and reflected it like a mirror. While across the road the hat of Mr. Trask was bright with the strip of foil Jimmy had fastened to it that morning.
From the rear seat of the car Jimmy looked down upon the two figures as the road wound between the shocked fields.
Next to him his sister, Stella, said, “Mr. Trask looks fine tonight. I think he likes the silver ribbon you gave him.”
Jimmy nodded. “Mr. Maudsley looks good too. See the way his hand shines?”
In the driver’s seat as he twisted the wheel to avoid a rut in the road, grey-haired Mr. Tap
