“I see part of it,” Max replied, rising. “I see Coolidge’s eye.”
“His
“What’s so surprising about that?” Max asked. “A Coolidge-head penny has a head, doesn’t it? And a head has an eye-one at the very least-doesn’t it? And the eye in the head of a Coolidge-head penny would be Coolidge’s, wouldn’t it? I mean, it would be a little odd to find Washington’s or Lincoln’s eye in the head of a Coolidge-head penny. So, why are you so surprised that I saw the eye of Coolidge peering up at me from the head of a Coolidge- head penny?”
“I just sort of thought that if you saw anything, you’d see the
“Mmmmmmm. . come to think of it. .” He shrugged. “Well, I saw somebody’s eye looking back up at me,” he said. “If it isn’t Coolidge’s, I think we better find out whose it is.” He looked around the saloon. “I’ll need something to use to pry up these floor boards,” he said. “Let’s see. . Aha!” He walked over to a chair and picked it up, raised it above his head, then smashed it against the floor. The chair splintered into several parts. “I’ll use this leg,” Max said, picking up a part that had not broken. “It’ll make a dandy lever.”
“Max, you certainly are resourceful,” 99 said admiringly. “I never would have thought of breaking that chair and using a leg to pry with. That was very clever.”
“Your frankness is appreciated, 99,” Max said. “But, actually, it was the most obvious thing to do. Anybody who’s ever seen a western movie knows that these chairs crack up at almost the slightest touch.” He inserted an end of the chair leg into the crack, then put his weight on the other end. There was a splintering sound and the leg snapped in two. “Just as I said-‘crack up at the slightest touch,’ ” Max said. He tossed the broken chair leg aside. “Any other clever ideas, 99?” he asked sarcastically.
“Max, that was-”
“Save it,” Max broke in. “You’ve used up your quota of frankness for today, 99.” He walked over to a table and kicked a leg. The leg broke off. Max picked it up and examined it closely. “I think this will work a little better,” he said. He lifted it over his head and smashed it against the floor. Again, there was a splintering sound. Max had smashed a large hole in the floor. “It just proves that the old adage is right,” he said, returning to where 99 and the mule were standing. “Never send a chair leg to do a table leg’s job.” He put the narrow end of the table leg into the crack, then pried. There was a creaking sound, then the floor board came loose. Max got down on his knees again.
“Is it there, Max?”
“Yes, 99, the eye is still here,” Max replied, rising. He began putting the floor board back in place.
“Wasn’t it the penny, Max?”
“It wasn’t the penny, 99,” Max answered, rising. “Now, let’s see, where shall we look next?”
“Max, what was it you saw? You said you saw an eye, and then you-”
“99, at some time in the long history of this saloon, a lady lost a small hand mirror down that crack. Now, does that answer all your questions sufficiently?”
“You mean it was-”
“Yes, it was
“Hee-haw!”
“What did he say, Max?”
“He said it was a natural mistake because, as he recalls, Coolidge had blue eyes, too. Now, are we going to stand around all morning discussing eyes or are we going to look for that Coolidge-head penny?” He moved to a crack near the tables and inserted an end of the table leg and applied leverage. The floor board popped up. Again, Max got down on his knees.
99 and the mule had joined him. “What do you see this time, Max?” 99 asked.
“Something shiny like a penny!”
“It’s it!” 99 cried.
“But I can’t reach it,” Max said. He plunged his whole arm into the hole. “It’s- I don’t know. . I can’t figure it out.” He extracted his arm and stood up. “Look for yourself, 99,” he said.
99 bent over and peered into the hole. “I see it!” she said. “You’re right, Max, it’s too far down to reach. I wonder what- Max! That’s the basement!”
“I hardly think so, 99,” Max said. “Remember where we are? We’re in a saloon. If anything, that’s a wine cellar down there.”
“All right, Max. A basement, a wine cellar, what’s the difference?”
“99, a wine cellar is a place where wine is kept. A cellar is a place that floods in spring. You’d know the difference, all right, if you kept your wine in the basement and it got water in it.” He put the floor board back in place. “All we have to do now,” he said, “is find the basement door.”
“The basement door, Max?”
“How else do you think you get to the wine cellar, 99? You go down through the basement doorway.” He walked to the rear of the saloon and entered the back room. When 99 and the mule joined him, he said, “Doesn’t this remind you of the old song, 99?”
“ ‘Dead In the Baggage Coach Ahead,’ Max?” 99 replied. “I don’t see the connection.”
“I meant the old song, ‘See What the Boys in the Back Room Will Have,’ ” Max explained. He looked puzzled. “There’s no basement door in here,” he said. “And I didn’t see one out in the other room, either. Where do you suppose the entrance to the basement is?”
“Wine cellar, you mean, Max.”
“Basement, wine cellar-what’s the difference.” Max left the back room and returned to the main room, followed by 99 and the mule. He stopped and looked around again. “Maybe I’m looking for the wrong kind of door,” he said. “Maybe you get to the wine cellar through a trapdoor. That makes sense. If the saloon-keeper had a lot of expensive wine stored in his wine cellar, he wouldn’t have the door where anybody could see it. He’d hide it. He’d have. . Let me see. . Of course! He’d have a trapdoor behind the bar.”
With 99 and Madame DuBarry tagging along, Max hurried to the bar, then went behind it. “A secret trapdoor,” he decided.
“What makes you think that, Max?”
“Do you
“No.”
“Well, I don’t either. So it must be a
“I don’t hear a hollow sound, Max.”
“99, I’m only halfway to the end of the bar.”
A short while later, Max reached the end.
“I didn’t hear any hollow sound, Max.”
“Hee-haw!”
“You can keep your comments to yourself, if you don’t mind,” Max said crankily to the mule.
“What did he say, Max?”
“He said, ‘Hee-haw!’ He was giving me the old mule laugh,” Max replied. Once more, he looked around the saloon. “Well, if the wine cellar isn’t reached by trapdoor, then you must get to it by secret panel,” he said. “Logically, that’s the only sensible answer.” He walked out from behind the bar and went to a wall and began pressing the panels. “If I can just locate the right spot, the panel will swing open, revealing the entrance to the wine cellar. All these old castles have secret panels. I think-”
“Max, this isn’t an old castle,” 99 pointed out. “It’s an old saloon.”
“Old castle, old saloon-what’s the difference. As long as-”
“Hee-haw!”
“What?” Max asked. “I didn’t get that.”
“Max!” 99 cried. “He disappeared again!”
Reluctantly, Max took his attention from the wall. He looked for the mule. “You’re right, 99! He found it!” he said.
“Found what, Max?”
“The secret panel! You don’t seem to know any more about horror movies than you do about westerns, 99. In
