Chapter Ten I began to notice that several times a day Daddy would slip to the back of the store and spend time hunched over his rolltop desk. Whenever anyone approached, he would pull out his ledger sheet and pretend to be looking at sales. I sneaked to the desk once when he was gone and looked through his papers but didn't find anything. One time I even asked him what he was doing back there. He just got a mysterious look on his face and turned away. Three days before the trial began, I was helping him with some window displays when a truck pulled up in front of the store. The door opened, and out stepped old Mr. Davis, the printer. Daddy stopped what he was doing and hurried out to meet him. I decided to go along. "Mornin', Mr. Earle," said Mr. Davis. "Got something for you." He opened the back of the truck, and inside were ten big boxes. Opening a pocketknife, he slit open one of the boxes, pulled out a small flat booklet, and handed it to Daddy. "What is it?" I asked. Daddy didn't answer. He studied the cover, running his fingers across it, then opened the booklet and slowly leafed through the pages. When he finished, he leaned down and handed it to me. "This is a little present from your Daddy. Save it and show it to your children someday." On the front of the booklet were the words "Why Dayton -- Of All Places?" Inside was information about the town and how it came to host the greatest trial of the century. "Who wrote this?" I asked. "Yours truly," he said. "Why do you think I've been spending so much time at my desk?" He grinned. "Didn't know your old man was an author, did you?" It was a handsome booklet. I wanted to give Daddy a hug and say I was proud of him. But I found myself wondering what Johnny Scopes would think about it. He might say that Daddy had paid for the printing of the booklets, but Johnny had paid too, and might keep paying for a long time. Mr. Davis said, "You want to give me a hand with these boxes?" "No problem," said Daddy. He stepped inside the store and called Billy Langford. Together Daddy and Billy lifted the boxes from the truck and carried them to the stockroom. When they finished, Mr. Davis latched the tailgate and climbed back into the truck. "Let me get my checkbook," said Daddy. Mr. Davis waved him off. "You're good for it," he said. "I'll send you a bill." He backed out into the street and drove away. Daddy turned to Billy and me. "Come on, we've got work to do." We finished the window displays, then set up a rack for the booklets at the front of the store. Daddy made up a sign that said trial souvenirs -- 5 and hung it above the rack. Then we loaded the rack with booklets, leaving the rest in the stockroom. As we finished, Eloise hurried into the store, shouting, "He's here! Mr. Bryan's here!" "Where?" I asked. "At the station. His train is coming in right now." "Hooray!" cried Sonny. "Who's Mr. Bryan?" I turned to Daddy. "Can I go? Please?" Daddy thought for a minute. "Two conditions," he said. "Number one, take Sonny with you." "Hooray!" said Sonny. "And number two, put some of these booklets in a bag. Maybe you can sell a few." By the time we arrived at the station, a big crowd had gathered, including at least fifty reporters and photographers. The train had just pulled in, and the crowd was surging up and down the length of the train, looking for the man they called the Great Commoner. Finally, in the doorway of the last car, a head appeared. "There he is!" someone shouted. The man stepped off the train wearing a black coat and bow tie. He was tall, with stooped shoulders, a pointed nose, and a chin jutting out from beneath his hat. He took off the hat to reveal a bald head with gray hairKidd, Ronald is the author of 'Monkey Town The Summer of the Scopes Trial' with ISBN 9781416905721 and ISBN 1416905723.