Free Ten Thumb Sam by Rachel Muller Page A

your father on duty. They’ll change places with the next shift at intermission.”
    â€œAnd all the cell phones are working?”
    â€œCheck. They were all charged overnight.”
    â€œNo one’s called in with anything suspicious yet?” Sam asked.
    â€œNot yet,” said Harriet. “Everyone’s got a copy of the picture of the man in the gray suit. If anyone sees him or anything strange, they’ll let us know right away so we can alert everyone else.”
    Sam phoned Mrs. Pigatto in the ticket booth. “How are ticket sales?” he asked.
    â€œFantastic!” said the ringmaster’s wife. “We’ve got extra benches set up inside, but even with the extra seats, we’re still going to have to turn people away soon.”
    â€œWait!” Sam said before she could hang up. “Don’t let anyone leave until you’ve sold them tickets for one of tomorrow’s performances!”
    â€œWill do,” Mrs. Pigatto replied.
    â€œBetter get to our own stations,” said Harriet. “We’ve got a whole lot of cotton candy and caramel corn to sell tonight!”

    Sam kept an eye out for the man in the gray suit as he worked the bleachers, but there was no sign of him. When nothing unusual had occurred by the end of intermission, Sam began to relax.
    The second half of the evening show also passed without incident. One after another, Sam’s friends and family members performed their acts flawlessly, to the delight of the capacity audience. At the end of the night, the tired but happy performers received a standing ovation.
    The success of Thursday evening’s show was repeated on Friday and again on Saturday. The big top was packed with appreciative spectators for each performance, and each performance ended with a standing ovation.

    â€œIf I could have your ATTENTION for a moment,” Mr. Pigatto announced in the performers’ tent after Saturday evening’s show. The room fell silent as the performers all turned to listen to the ringmaster.
    â€œI know you’re tired,” said Mr. Pigatto. “We’ve all been working very hard these last few days, thanks to Sam and Harriet’s plan. But I think you’ll agree that we have a lot to celebrate.”
    A cheer went up from the assembled group.
    Mr. Pigatto beamed. “I would like to propose a toast.” He waited while the glasses of punch were distributed. When everyone had been served, Mr. Pigatto raisedhis glass. “To Sam and Harriet, for coming to the rescue of the Triple Top in our hour of need!”
    â€œHear, hear,” the other performers echoed, raising their glasses.
    Sam’s cheeks were burning. “Thanks,” he said. “But we’re not quite done yet.”
    â€œWe’re not?” said his brother Andrew. “But we’ve already sold most of tomorrow’s seats in advance. Doesn’t that give us enough money to pay our fines?”
    â€œWe can pay the fines this week,” said Harriet. “But what about next week or the week after that?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” asked Tony Zuccato.
    â€œWell,” said Sam, “Mr. Beaverwick doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who gives up when he doesn’t get what he wants. If he really is behind all of the Triple Top’s problems, he’s not going to go away just because we beat him this time.”
    Max nodded. “Sam is right. Beaverwick didn’t build his empire by disappearing every time he lost a battle. He’s the kind of man who will do whatever it takes to get his way. He’ll be back. He’ll wait until we have our guard down, and then he’ll pounce.”
    â€œOh dear. What can we do?” asked Erma Fritzi, wringing her hands.
    â€œFortunately, Sam and Harriet have a plan to deal with Beaverwick,” Mr. Pigatto replied. “And if it works, we’ll never have to worry about Circus Enormicus