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A great story The bottom line is written by the author, not only for kids but also people of every age read this in their spare time.


The Bottom Line

As Clayton and I walked through the post-door, there was a crowd gathering, staring at the new sword like the sound of frogs peeking across the wall. I had to get close, and this was the girl who is cheaper than the wire fence. Fortunately, my eleven-year-old franc was the same. “Come on.” I said, holding her hand, and we kept slipping through the gaps between people until we slid in front.

Finally I got a good look. This post was specified on the plaster next to the master’s window, a place of honor usually reserved for the wanted posters. The bank robber, the wily-eyed Zedekiah Smith, was still hanging there, but he was even pushed aside for something more important.

The first in a telephone town. “How’s it going?” Called by Noah Crawford. Noah is the best fix-guy around, and I can tell he was itching to get his fingers on those shiny cats. “Don’t know the right way,” the postmaster replied, and he pulled away with his remains as he told her.

It’s like a string; you just hear the words instead of the dots and dashes.” “Ah” the crowd murmured, and I felt my mouth go away.

I looked at the shiny wooden box and something happened inside me. Something – I can only guess – can be like falling in love. The thought of talking in that box – blowing my voice through the wires in the sky – took my mind off of it. I don’t take it out. Could. “Clayton,” I inflamed my twins. “I have to use that telephone.” Five minutes later, Clayton drove me to Main Street, home.

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We both thought alike, I had answers to Clayton’s questions before I even asked him.

“You’re right,” I said.

I don’t have its cost that is five cent.

“You see that?” I pointed to the rocky mounds on a black mole. Some were bright gray shots with gold accents, some as yellow as cheese curds. And one, clear and firm, sitting like an icicle, avoiding winter time. Clayton’s eyebrows were damaged and I could tell he wasn’t complying.


Shaking his head, Clayton added two toes under his suspender. “But Lisa -” I took a hand – he couldn’t tell me something I didn’t already know. “I also found out. I’ll bet we can meet some in North Creek – mining.” Clayton didn’t pay attention, pretended not to care, but I knew better. He wanted to find that old mine, like me. In addition, Clayton knew he had no choice. The twins live together, especially Khour Burki, ‘because it takes two of us to make most people.

We spent the next morning on a dusty road to North Creek. Mother cooked lunch but said that she does not walk this way for the rocks. He thought we had gone to find a dry creek bed, and I didn’t fix it. I felt a little guilty of fooling my mother, but whenever a pain hit, I adjusted my voice to the sound of the strings. It looked a lot like me, made my voice, was wearing only a pink tattoo and was carrying a shaggy umbrella.

We reached the old basement around noon. The hole in the sage-covered hill was surrounded by timber. They were tired and splintery, and nothing looked like a picture frame.

I put my foot inside, my arms folded. Returned to the swarm of geese. The air smelled of mildew and swirling rags, but also of a bit of sweat and wood smoke. Strange. He was empty for years. Once my eyes became accustomed to dimming, I kept staring around; hoping to see the shaking rock floor, but the dust was all I had seen. Clayton passed me where the wall was tight, then disappeared around the curve. I moved fast. I’ll be right behind Clayton, when, Bing, his boot is attached to metal. He leaned in, grabbed, and when he stood up, his palm caught hold of more than we expected. A gold coin. Clayton’s eyes almost winked. “Where did he come from?


Just then, the next night voices were heard: “Zed, keep it high.” Two men fell through a ladder into the far wall. They were not minors. I can tell it from a glance. They were dressed for the ride, with leather chips and spears.

One tied the shoulders tightly and the head was hung on the back of his jaw. The other wore a beaten hat, his face covered in shadow. When he picked up his lantern, the light flashed over those beaded eyes. The bank robber was Zedekiah Smith. I stuck myself to the wall, hoping to disappear into the shadows. Clayton leaped, hiding his head in his ghetto. But for once, we haven’t been scanned enough. “Ha!


I tried to run, too, but met Clayton from the back. The next thing I knew, Clayton and I were on the ground, with a sharp nail hand taken to our feet. “Looked here, Z,” our kidnapper yelled, “some spies.”

“No,” I said to myself. “We’re not spies. We were looking for rocks to sell. A new telephone has arrived in town, and I just wanted to go!” The guy with the head jerked my hair. “Does she always talk that much?” He asked Clayton. Clayton – traitor – shaken. “Looking for rocks, are you?


The gold coin was heated in the light of the lantern. “Lucky here, Z. Misty fell out.” Zedekiah Smith walked out and dropped the coin out of Clayton’s palm. “You don’t want that, boy. It’s dirty money.” “That’s how you made it,” I told him. “You stole it.” Zedekiah Smith narrowed his eyes and made them more beautiful. “Caleb is right. You talk a lot.” Five minutes later, Clayton and I were back on the ground. “That’s what you get,” Caleb said, as he tied his hands behind us.


“It’s not bad without you,” I said, and Clayton moaned. “Certainly it will be,” Caleb said. “Old is a dangerous place of mine. You may be trapped in a cave, or betrayed by strangers. Instead of luck, you have found us. That, that!” He then straightened his throat.


We’ll be gone by that long. Right Z?” “That’s right.” Zedekiah Smith was standing back, watching Caleb do the dirty work, his eyes were again shaded. “Just let us go,” I begged. “We won’t tell.” “Yes!” Caleb combines moared coffee with coffee.


Zedekiah Smith picked up the lantern and, without seeing it, passed through the door in the rock wall. I kept listening until their cheerfulness disappeared.

We were alone in the dark so thick it closed my nose. Caleb was right. It was a bad place. I will not stay one day and the bad thing is that when my mother found my lifeless body, she would know that I was a liar.

I was drowning in frustration, but Clayton shocked me more. “There,” he said. “I’m free.” I can’t believe it when the rope ck got loose. Leaping to my feet, I kept rubbing my wrists, trying to show how Clayton managed to surprise me. It wasn’t that he worked his bones out of Caleb’s knot. That was it. The real surprise was that he came up with this idea without my help. “Dear,” I said, wasting my relief on other life chances. Mom didn’t have to find my lifeless body. And about the falsehood, well, I’ll work on that. But first, I had another good thing on my mind, the best way to start my new life. I was about to change that illegality.

I grabbed Clayton’s arm and led him to the exit. “We need to go to the city and report to Zedekiah Smith.” Then something else happened to me.

“Of course we will split it.” We rounded the wall and collided with each other, with chips and hats. Zedekiah Smith was back. Before we left, he hung us in his arms like two pigs for carnage. “Let’s go!” I screamed, hitting his chest. “Shh,” she shook. “Caleb thinks I forgot something.” I’m born “but ….

“I’m back to cut you lose.”

“Are you feeling sorry?” Clayton asked and Zedekiah Smith laughed. “No, but I couldn’t find any stomach to hurt people.” His arms were outstretched, releasing us, and he took a step back.


But take it so that the money is long.” He went into his pocket and uncovered a pale yellow rock with honey-colored glass. “I saw it in a dry creek bed. Maybe a telephone call is worth it.” She threw it in my hand and made a difference. Then he turned and went to the sun. Clayton and I looked like a pair of big-mouth frogs. We did not make it to the sheriff’s office the next morning.

I told Zedekiah Smith, as I should, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like a good thing anymore. Our next stop was the Variety Store. The old Mr. Paulson’s eyes lit up when he saw the crystal rock. 25 went to St. Clayton’s, who wasted it on candy. I saved some souvenirs for myself. The post office was no longer crowded. Still, there was some control when I got to the center and made my exit.

“I’d like to make a telephone call,” I announced.

“What about him,” the postmaster said of his knee. “You’ll be the first. Who do you want to call?” “Who?


Pink tattoos and frilly umbrellas both flowed like poles in the air. My voice couldn’t dance to the wires – it had no place to go. No one I knew had a telephone.

I turned to Clayton and found him smiling. “You saw it all,” I charged. He was shaken. “I tried to tell you.” “You did?


I’ve been too busy using my mouth to make notes. After a loving glance at the telephone, I returned from the center. Maybe candy will be a good use for that extract after all. “Clayton,” I thought of those thoughts, “without me he speaks,” the next time you have something to say, speak up.

I’ll do my best to listen. “Zedekiah Smith’s poster seemed to laugh at me as we were passing by. I turned to Clayton and found him smiling. “You saw it all,” I charged. He was shaken. “I tried to tell you.” “You did?” I’ve been too busy using my mouth to make notes.

After a loving glance at the telephone, I returned from the center. Maybe candy will be a good use for that extract after all. “Clayton,” I thought of those thoughts, “without me he speaks,” the next time you have something to say, speak up. I’ll do my best to listen. “Zedekiah Smith’s poster seemed to laugh at me as we were passing by.


That’s the end of short story the bottom line. read more on our short stories category section in home page.

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THE CAGED : A short story by Maria McCarthy - MAST QUOTES · March 10, 2020 at 9:40 AM

[…] The Bottom Line – Short Story For Kids […]

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