Short Story
MARBLE CITY GOLD.
By Brian Comerford
Copyright 1996 Brian Comerford
Smashwords Edition
-o0o-
“Glasses” wiped once more the horn-rims and leaned in while perching the spectacles on his nose. “No Calls” Tommy emphatically waved away the outstretched phone. “Freddy Forecast” dropped his paper to his left and laid his pen on the table to his right. It was rare for anyone to capture the full attention of this trio. They leaned into the centre of the table like hens at the feed tray.
"It all started with a question". “Whispering Jack” spoke as his name suggested, but whenever he spoke he got rapt attention.
"To be or not to be, that is the question" chimed in Freddy Forecast, " what was it anyway? "
"Later", Whispering Jack rejoined, "and it wasn't the name of the winner in to-morrow's 3.30 race."
The huddle moved closer still. Whispering Jack raised a finger in silent salute, "God be good to him, when “Riddles” O'Reilly asked you something, you knew better than to expect a straight answer. So I went with him".