Harry Houdini Mysteries Read Free Page A

and gravel, potsherds, flints, bits of glass, and other savories. Upon conclusion of the display, this Gustatory Marvel will allow onlookers to strike his stomach to hear the rattling of the strange objects within.’” Platt lowered his pince-nez and regarded us with a bemused expression. “I don’t suppose this is an act you might be willing to undertake.”
    “Certainly not,” I said. “The talents of the Brothers Houdini lie in an entirely different sphere of—”
    “Would I be able to take my wife?” Harry asked.
    “Harry!” I cried. “What are you thinking? You’re not a—”
    “The Portain Circus is a very reputable organization,” my brother said evenly. “If I could establish myself in the company, I might be able to win a spot more in keeping with the usual run of my talents. Moreover, I would be able to rescue Bess from her servitude in the chorus line at Ravelsen’s Review.”
    “Your reasoning is flawless,” I said with considerable asperity, “except for the part which requires you to eat rocks and glass. How do you propose to overcome that little difficulty?”
    Harry turned to Platt, who had been pulling contentedly at his clay pipe during this exchange.
    “You say that I would have two weeks to prepare?” Harry asked.
    Platt folded his hands. “Yes, Mr. Houdini. Two weeks. But I warn you, this act is no place for an amateur. Do you really think you’re up to it?”
    By way of an answer, Harry reached across Platt’s desk and plucked the clay pipe from his fingers.
    “Harry!” I cried, as he placed the smoldering bowl into his mouth. “Don’t—”
    But he had already bitten off the bowl of the pipe at its stem and was now happily chewing on the glowing contents.
    “What did he say?” Platt asked, as Harry tried to speak through a mouthful of clay and burning embers.
    “I can’t be certain,” I said, “but I believe it was ‘Hoonga-boonga.’ “

2
A MOST DELICIOUS POCKET WATCH
    “H ARRY,” I SAID, AS WE JUMPED ONTO AN OMNIBUS HEADING BACK across town, “what were you thinking? You’re no stone-eater! You can’t possibly be ready to tour in two weeks’ time! You’ll only ruin your health in the attempt!”
    “I’ll do nothing of the sort,” he said, settling himself onto a wooden seat near the back. “I shall apply the same rigorous conditioning and training techniques that have made me the world’s foremost escape artist.”
    “But—”
    “Dash,” he said calmly, “the Portain Circus would be a vast improvement over our current run of bookings. You know that perfectly well. As for my lack of experience, I shall simply ask for some pointers from Vranko.”
    “The Glass-Eater? How long has he been on the bill at Huber’s now? Five years? Six?”
    “Seven,” said Harry.
    “Seven years. Vranko isn’t exactly a headliner, Harry. Not after seven years at the dime museum.”
    “Perhaps, but he can certainly instruct me in the rudiments. My startling natural charisma will do the rest.”
    “Of course,” I said. “Your startling natural charisma. How careless of me to overlook that.”
    Harry gripped the arm rail as our driver whipped the horsesaround a corner. “Dash, I just want to have Bess working alongside me again. I hate to think of my wife thrown among those wolves at Ravelsen’s, helpless and vulnerable.”
    “Harry, do you recall that theater manager in Loon Lake? Bess nearly chewed his ear off for daring to suggest that she use a more ‘enticing’ shade of rouge. Your wife could scarcely be described as helpless or vulnerable.”
    “Even so, Dash. I can hardly be faulted for wishing to take her out of the chorus line.”
    “She enjoys it, Harry. This wouldn’t have anything to do with her pay packet being heavier than yours, would it?”
    He colored. “Certainly not! I am delighted that my wife’s talents are so highly prized!” He drew back from the open window as a hansom cab clattered past in the opposite direction. “In any