Free Trail of the Twisted Cros by Buck Sanders Page B

Chinaman and a Jew, and they’re sitting at a bar, both of them drinking.
    “For no reason at all, the Jew leans over and shoves the Chinaman to the floor. Sprawled down there on the floor, the Chinaman’s
     flabbergasted. He says to the Jew, ‘What the hell was that for?’
    “The Jew says, “That was for Pearl Harbor.’
    “The Chinaman says, ‘You idiot! Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese. I’m
Chinese!’
    “ ‘Chinese, Japanese… what’s the difference?’
    “So now the Chinaman gets back up on his bar stool and he sits there quietly, just drinking. For a long time, the Chinaman
     doesn’t say anything. Then, he leans over and shoves the Jew down onto the floor.
    “Now the Jew is down on the floor and he’s flabbergasted. So he says, ‘What the hell was that for?’
    “The Chinaman says, ‘That was for the
Titanic!
’
    “ ‘The
Titanic?
You idiot, the
Titanic
was sunk by an iceberg!’
    “ ‘Iceberg, Rosenberg, what’s the difference?’ “
    It always worked. The guards fell all over themselves laughing. Two of them slapped Rogers on the back, and the bond was made.
    “See, you boys got nothing to fear from me,” Rogers said, his drawl at its practiced best on such occasions. “I’m just a good
     old boy like you. They make me wear all these fancy clothes when I got to go on television to say all this stuff you know
     clear down to the short hairs is true enough, okay?”
    “That’s what I was tellin my friend Bob,” one of the guards said. “Hell, I believe all that stuff you say, ‘specially what
     you said the day you come in here.
    “It’s just,” the guard said, “it’s just that… well, you know, the uniforms and all.”
    “Scares some folks off, don’t it?” Rogers asked the men. “Folks who aren’t like you and don’t take the time to listen to the
     message and analyze it and see how it makes sense to their lives. Am I right?”
    Long ago, Rogers had learned the insurance salesman’s trick of always asking a question to which the answer must be affirmative.
     Puts the customer—or the mark—in a positive frame of mind; you make your sale nearly every time.
    “Yeah.”
    The guards spoke as one.
    “Well, let me tell you a little secret, boys. Just between you boys and me, right?” Rogers asked.
    The guards nodded as one.
    “One of these fine days, when my lawyers get me out of this here slammer, there ain’t going to be any more uniforms. I’m going
     to get my message across to everybody, and nobody’s going to be afraid to stand up for Johnny Lee Rogers, anywhere, anytime,
     anyhow. You hear me?”
    The guards nodded.
    “Yes, sir! You’ll just see!”
    “Well,” said the guard who had initiated the conversation with the prisoner, “I hope you’ll be able to pull that’n off, Johnny.
     I really do. And me and the rest of us, well, we’ll be with you.”
    Johnny Lee Rogers put on a humble expression and moved his marks.
    “That’s a burden I’ll be proud to carry. Hell, it’s no burden at all. I’m happy to carry your trust in me. I won’t let you
     down, men…” He hesitated now, choking, brushing something from his eye.
    “Men,” he continued, stronger now, back in manly control, “are you with me?”
    The guards nodded.
    All the men sat silent for a few seconds. Then someone realized that the room they occupied was inside a Federal penitentiary,
     and Johnny Lee Rogers was a prisoner being held in this holding area until extra security forces could comb the penitentiary
     corridors he would have to walk through to get to the seclusion area to which he was being transferred.
    Someone in Washington had ordered that Rogers be barred from mingling with other prisoners, that he be restricted from visitors,
     and that he take his meals alone, only after precautionary testing. The testing was to detect weapons smuggling.
    A telephone rang. A guard answered it, grunted something into the receiver, and announced that it was “time to