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Determined to make sure his
bean counter handled the purchase of his salvaged yacht appropriately, Fred X.
headed for the auction, arriving barely in time
to hear the final going, going, gone!
Dooley stepped forward to write a check
for the auctioneer. He looked mighty happy, Fred thought. He'd never seen old
Dooley look so thrilled.
Fred grabbed him by the arm. "What are you so bananas
about?"
"My yacht," Dooley crowed. "I never guessed I could get a yacht
so cheap."
"
It's not your yacht, fool. I sent you out to here to buy it for me. It's
mine."
Dooley licked his smiling lips. "Not any more. I bid on it, and
I'm paying
for it." And then Dooley mumbled something under his breath that sounded
like, "Where you're going, you won't have any use for it."
"
Dooley, you're fired unless you turn that yacht over to me," Fred
shouted, just before noticing he was surrounded by uniformed policemen.
One officer
stepped forward. "Fred Xavier Keefer?"
"
Yeah?"
The officer grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. "You're
under
arrest for attempted murder."
A familiar voice chimed in. "You were
just too clever for your own good,
Freddie-boy!"
He wheeled around to face Mildred.
"
You can blame it on Berry," Mildred said. "When the police chief's
wife got a postcard signed, Love, Berry, with the Berry scratched through and
Milly written over it, we knew we had you."
Fred blanched. "You're supposed
to be dead!"
Mildred popped a piece of gum into her mouth. "How stupid
do you think I
am? You faker, I saw right through your sudden change of heart."
"But the drink I gave you?"
"
Dumped your doped-up drink in the bathroom sink and pretended to pass out
while you hid me in the closet."
The officer fastened the handcuffs around
Fred’s wrists. "Interpol
arrested your girl friend in Paris yesterday. She confessed to the entire scheme."
Fred
turned to Mildred. "How did you get to shore?"
"Swam, just as you did.” She patted his biceps. “I want to thank
you for egging me on with those boring laps in the pool every morning."
THE END
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