Das Lösegeld des Roten Häuptlings

It looked like a good plan. But wait until I tell you the whole story.

My name is Sam. My friend Bill Driscoll and I were down South, in the state of Alabama. That was where we had our big idea. Later, Bill said it was the worst idea of his life. But we did not know that then.

There was a small town down there. It was as flat as a pancake, and its name was Summit. The people in it were quiet and happy, and they did not think much about the world outside.

Bill and I had about six hundred dollars. We needed two thousand dollars more for a business plan in Illinois. It was not a very honest plan. We talked about it on the steps of the hotel.

"In a little town like this," I said, "people love their children very much. If a child goes missing, the parents will pay anything to get him back."