But he was going like a streak,
and the clerk began to sprint in earnest.
It was all in vain, however. With a few great bounds Herr Schimmelpodt
was close enough to reach out one of his big arms and lay hold
of the fleeing clerk. That clerk stopped suddenly, with a jolt.
"Vy don't you go on running, ain't it?" demanded Herr Schimmelpodt.
A crowd formed about them.
The reason why the clerk didn't continue his running was a very
good one. One of the German's big hands encircled the clerk's
thin arm like a bracelet of steel. The clerk struggled, but he
might as well have tried to break out of irons.
"You vant me to bractise running, so dot I gan catch you, eh?"
grunted the German. "You vant me to eat breakfast sawdust for
a dyspepsia vot I ain't got, huh? You vant me to dake breathing
eggsercises ven I can dake more air into my lungs, alretty, dan
your whole body gan disblace? You vant me to do monkey-tricks
mit a dumb-pell, yen I gan do things like dis?"
Suiting the action to the word, Herr Schimmelpodt grasped the
clerk by one shoulder and one thigh. Up over his head the German
raised the unhappy young man. Herr Schimmelpodt's arms fell and
rose as he "exercised" with the young man for a wand.
Everything in the gym. had stopped. All eyes were on this novel
performance. Roars of laughter greeted some new stunts that Herr
Schimmelpodt performed with his human wand. The great German
was the only one who seemed unconscious of the hurricane of laughter
that he was causing.
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