Kitabı oku: «The Adventures of a Country Boy at a Country Fair», sayfa 13

CHAPTER XXV.
ON BAIL

When Uncle Nathan learned that the celebrated lawyer had made preparations for this move on his part he was literally beside himself with rage, and vowed that the warrant should be served and the prisoner taken to jail immediately, or he would see to it that the constable was deprived of his commission without delay.

"I've served the warrant," the man said, quietly, "an' now the prisoner is in my custody. You have no more to say what shall be done with him than that goat, so shut your mouth."

"I'll shut yours so close it won't be opened again for a month!" the old man screamed. "Do as I tell you, or take the consequences."

"And I'm goin' to give you the same advice," Mr. Sweet cried, as he advanced toward Uncle Nathan threateningly. "Now the boy has been arrested, you are an intruder here, an' I'll give you thirty seconds in which to get out; after that we'll make an example of such a reprobate."

"I'll go when I get ready, an' not a minute before. Lay a hand on me an' I'll have a warrant for you."

"If you can get it, well and good. I now order you out for the last time. In thirty seconds I'll guarantee you won't be in condition to walk."

While their employer had been speaking the barker and the clown silently ranged themselves by his side, ready for any commands which might be given, and the infuriated old man had sufficient sense left to let him understand it would be unsafe to linger.

"I'll serve you out before this thing is ended," he cried, shaking his fist in impotent rage as he went toward the flap, and Dan, who could control himself no longer, replied:

"You'd better begin on me, for I'm goin' to tell this thing to everybody who comes to the fair to-morrow, an' from what I've heard it wouldn't take much coaxin' to get the band from the Run up here, so's I could sing it. You're havin' a good time now; but there'll be a different side to the matter to-morrow."

Mr. Sweet had followed Uncle Nathan so closely, literally turning him out, that he could not reply while inside the canvas; but once in the open air, he made threats that would have frightened any one who did not know the motive by which they had been inspired.

Meanwhile the constable appeared disposed to take matters in the most comfortable manner. He asked Teddy why he wished to see Deacon Jones, and the boy said:

"I don't know; but Mr. Harvey told me that if anything happened to-night I was to see the deacon."

"Then we'll go there. Are you ready?"

Teddy thought of his money, and, fearing lest it might be taken from him, asked if he could hand something to Mr. Sweet.

"I think not," was the undecided reply. "The deacon will know, an' whatever he says I'll stand by."

"Don't bother about anything just now," the proprietor of the museum said. "We'll all go with you, an' there'll be plenty of time to make necessary arrangements before you're taken to jail."

Although the lawyer had assured him he could be involved in no serious trouble, the mere fact that he was under arrest sufficed to make Teddy wretched, and like one under sentence of death, he prepared to accompany the constable.

Dan and Tim intended to join the party, as was shown by their remaining very close to the prisoner, and only the barker and the clown were left to care for the tent.

Uncle Nathan was met on the outside, and he immediately began to insist that the boy be taken to jail at once; but the officer paid no attention to his ravings.

"If you don't hold your tongue I'll knock the whole top of your head off," Mr. Sweet whispered, brandishing his fists in the most threatening manner, and the old man cried, excitedly:

"Mr. Officer, I call upon you to bear witness that this man is threatening my life, and insist that you protect me from insult."

"I've nothing to do with you," the constable replied, with a laugh. "The warrant has been served, an' all you've got to do is hold your horses till the case is called up in court."

"Wait till I get home once more, an' then we'll see that he's got a good deal to do with the case," Tim cried. "I'll spend every minute from then for a week tellin' the folks that he only did this to make Teddy give up half of what he made, an' it'll be a pretty poor kind of a chump who'll do any more tradin' at his store."

Uncle Nathan stepped toward the boy who had spoken so boldly as if he would inflict the direst punishment then and there; but he probably realized that this would prejudice his case, and contented himself by saying:

"We'll see whether the people at the Run will believe a couple of boys who have been in league with burglars, for you mustn't forget, Tim Jones, that I have proof you helped Teddy to carry away the burglar's money."

"If it'll do you any good I'll own up to the fact now," the boy replied. "It can't be so bad to do that as it is to arrest your own nephew because he won't give you half his money."

"Don't say anything more," Teddy whispered to his friend. "It's only makin' matters worse, an' he's got the upper hand of us all jest now."

"I don't know whether he has or not," the valiant Tim replied; "but at the same time it'll do him a world of good to let him hear the truth."

At this point Uncle Nathan appeared to understand that he was not coming out victor in this battle of tongues, and he wisely held his peace, saying not another word until the little party arrived at the home of Deacon Jones.

The manager of the fair was resting after a particularly hard day's work. More than one of the citizens of Peach Bottom had openly said he was responsible for the riot by allowing liquor to be sold on the grounds, and his greeting of the visitors was not calculated to assure the frightened Teddy.

"Well, what do you want?" he cried, roughly, as they entered his library. "If it's anything concerning the fair I won't open my mouth. A man can't be driven to death with work and then disturbed at all hours of the night, simply to give the fools in this town a chance to make trouble."

"All I know about it is that I arrested this boy, and he insisted on being brought to you, saying it was Lawyer Harvey's advice," the constable began, and the angry deacon immediately began to appear interested.

"Is this your nephew, Nathan?" he asked of the old man, who now had a smirk of confidence on his face.

"I'm sorry he is, deacon, an' after I set him up in business he goes ag'in me by givin' information to burglars, who rob me."

"And you have had him arrested?"

"I felt obliged to in the interest of society."

"That's a lie," Mr. Sweet interrupted, angrily. "He tried to make the boy pay him half he earned on the fair grounds, and has done this thing only because Teddy refused."

"We won't go into the details of the case, because I am not a magistrate," the deacon replied, with a majestic wave of the hand. "Mr. Officer, tell the 'Squire that I am prepared to go bail to any amount, and ask if the business can't be conducted here, for I'm too tired to go out of doors unless it is absolutely necessary."

"What?" the old man screamed. "Will you answer for that little villain's appearance at court?"

"That's what I said, Nathan. This affair is none of my business other than I have stated; but I must say you are goin' a leetle too far, not only in my opinion, but in that of others, an' it may prove a costly job for somebody before it's finished."

The old man was literally speechless.

He could not understand why the deacon should have turned against him so suddenly, and the last words made him decidedly uneasy.

He was not to be silenced without a struggle, however. After the first surprise had died away he said, with a comical assumption of dignity:

"I will see whether I'm to be browbeaten in this manner. The 'Squire does not dare to release the boy on bail, and I shall tell him so."

With these words he left the house hurriedly, and the constable said to the deacon:

"If you will write a line to the 'Squire, saying that you're ready to go bail, I do not think there will be any necessity of troubling you again to-night."

This suggestion was immediately acted upon, and the weary manager of the fair penned the following words:

I am ready to enter security to any amount for the appearance at court of Edward Hargreaves, and if you should not consider my bond sufficient, I am empowered to say that John Reaves, of Waterville, will add his name, therefore there can be no good reason for committing him to jail, since we are both responsible for the prisoner until the bond can be executed.

A. Jones

Having received this the constable departed with the prisoner and his friends, and once on the outside he said, confidently:

"The matter is settled, no matter how much old Nathan may rave. Both Mr. Reaves an' the deacon have got the 'Squire by the nose, and he must dance to their fiddlin'."

That this assertion was correct Teddy realized a few moments later when he was ushered into the 'Squire's dining-room, and the latter, without paying the slightest attention to the prisoner, said to the officer:

"I have just heard that you served the warrant I issued, and then took the boy to Deacon Jones' house. Is that correct?"

"Straight as a string, 'Squire. Lawyer Harvey told him if anything happened to go there, an' I thought he had a right to look up bail before being lugged off to jail. Here's what the deacon's got to say about it."

The 'Squire took the paper which the officer held out, and after reading it, said benignly:

"You were quite correct in doing what you did, Mr. Constable. This is quite sufficient guarantee that he will be produced when wanted, and you may let him go. Give me the papers, and I will indorse them."

After this formality had been gone through with the constable said to Mr. Sweet:

"That settles the matter so far as Teddy is concerned, and with such men as the deacon, Mr. Reaves, and Lawyer Harvey to back him, I don't believe old Nathan will make any too much out of this job."

"You are free to go where you please," the 'Squire added, and the young fakir with his friends left the house, wondering very much at the amount of influence which, unsolicited, had been exerted in Teddy's behalf.

As for the boy himself, he was far from feeling comfortable in mind. Unless the burglary could be brought home to Long Jim it did not seem possible that Hazelton could be set free, and this last was absolutely necessary in order to establish his own innocence.

It was a great consolation for him to be with such good friends, however, and each in turn tried to cheer him, but without success until Mr. Sweet said:

"There's no question of your getting out of the scrape with flying colors, and to celebrate I'm goin' to give a regular dinner party to every decent fakir on the grounds. Come over, boys, an' help me get ready. Business has been so good to-day that I can afford to indulge in a little extravagance."

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE FAKIRS' PARTY

The idea of a party in the museum tent, where there would be no guests save fakirs, struck Teddy as being very comical, and he laughed heartily despite the fact that he was still virtually a prisoner in the meshes of the law; but at the same time he did not think Mr. Sweet was really in earnest when he made the proposition.

It was not many moments, however, before he understood that the party was to be given in the most elaborate manner possible.

On arriving at the tent Mr. Sweet sent the bouncer out with invitations to such of the fakirs as remained on the grounds all night, or lived in the immediate vicinity, and at the same time the clown started for the town in order to purchase refreshments.

"Now, you boys are to take right hold an' help the best you know how," the proprietor of the museum said as he pulled off his coat and vest preparatory to making ready for the feast. "If them as comes want to sit down it must be on the ground, owing to the lack of chairs, therefore it don't make much difference if the table is a trifle high."

To the surprise of the boys he proceeded to convert the wagon into a "festal board" by first pulling it into the center of the tent, and then removing the sides. Over the floor of this newspapers were spread, and two plates, three forks, one knife, and four tin dippers were placed on the impromptu cloth.

"The provisions will be cut ready for eating," Mr. Sweet explained, "so one knife must serve for all hands, and it won't hurt any of the crowd if they're obliged to take turns using the dippers."

The clown returned before the guests began to assemble. He brought cold sausage, sliced ham, cold fried potatoes, sweet crackers, cake, pie, and a quantity of lemons and sugar.

Contrary to his expectations, Mr. Sweet did not think this assortment sufficient for the kind of a dinner he proposed to give, and the messenger was forced to return in search of cheese, pickled pig's feet, sardines, and milk for the coffee.

Matters were in a decided state of confusion when the first of the guests arrived. Mr. Sweet, not troubled by the absence of dishes, had placed the various articles on the wagon-table in the brown paper coverings as they had been received, and it was upon his skill as a maker of coffee that he based his reputation as a host.

Therefore everything was neglected for this one important thing, and the proprietor was standing over the oil stove with a look of grave responsibility on his face when the owner of the envelope game and his assistant arrived.

"The boys will take care of you," he said, hurriedly, bending over the huge pot to inhale the odor, in order to know exactly how the berries were adapting themselves to the infusion, and, much to his surprise, Teddy found himself the one especial feature of the party.

All on the ground had evidently heard of his arrest, for each new arrival asked concerning the events of the evening, and, what was more to the purpose, so far as he was concerned, all seemed to think his troubles were only temporary.

"You'll come out of it all right," the manager of the largest sandwich booth said, confidently, as he entered with his hat on one side of his head and a cigar held in his mouth at an angle of forty-five degrees. "I heard of your uncle last year, when he tried to make trouble for a friend of mine in the spittoon game, an' you can bet your bottom dollar that the people here are not going to take much stock in what he says."

"It seems they did, so far as to issue a warrant for my arrest," Teddy replied, with a mirthless smile.

"But that won't amount to anything. I hear you have got John Reaves as a friend, an' he comes pretty near runnin' things to suit himself in Peach Bottom. He helped my friend out of the scrape your uncle put him into, an' folks say there's no love lost between him an' Nathan Hargreaves."

"I want to get out of my trouble simply on the ground that I am not guilty," Teddy replied. "If I am charged with aiding burglars, there's precious little consolation in being set free simply because people do not like the man who made the charge."

"Nobody believes you guilty, and for the matter of that I'm certain Hazelton had nothing to do with the job. His game ain't exactly square; but he don't go around breaking into stores."

Teddy was on the point of telling that Long Jim had been arrested because of the burglaries committed; but he remembered in time that this fact was as yet a secret, and remained silent.

The man who leased the only "Great African Dodger" was the next to arrive, and he also seemed to think it necessary to condole with the young fakir in his troubles, as did the remainder of the guests, and by the time all were assembled Teddy began to think his experience was only such as every other person in the tent had undergone at some time in his career.

"You see this is the way the matter stands," the whip man said, confidentially, while Mr. Sweet was bending all his energies to mixing the lemonade. "People think fakirs are the worst class of men in the world, whereas, if the matter was sifted right down, they'd find the class as a whole was honest because they couldn't afford to be otherwise. I'm not talking now about those who run strong games, like Hazelton; but ourselves who do a legitimate business. You've got canes an' knives to sell, while I deal in whips; now all we want is a fair show to dispose of our goods, an' we know everything must be done on the square, or there's bound to be trouble sooner or later, consequently we keep straight, an' take all the abuse which those who have come to swindle the folks deserve. Why, what, I ask you, would the managers of these fairs do if they couldn't get us to come up with our money for privileges? They couldn't pay expenses, an' that's the whole amount of the story. They run after us, an' yet when we come there's the same old howl about swindlers."

The man talked until he was literally forced to stop for lack of breath, and Teddy had not so much as spoken; but proved a good listener, which was all his condoler appeared to expect of him.

When the clown returned with the last installment of eatables there was nothing to prevent the assembled crowd from partaking of Mr. Sweet's hospitality. The coffee was done to a turn; the lemonade was neither too sour nor too sweet, and the proprietor of the museum summoned his guests to the feast by saying:

"Now turn to an' fill yourselves up. It ain't often I do this sort of thing; but somehow or other I've got a reg'lar admiration for our cane-board fakir, an' after comin' out as he has to-night it seems only right we should kinder spread ourselves. There's no liquor in the tent, which is as it should be, for I'm a temperance man, an' them as wants it can make hogs of themselves somewhere else. Take hold hearty, an' remember that this layout is in honor of them as did a good turn to the whole gang by savin' the lives of the women what would likely have drowned if there hadn't been any fakirs in the country."

This was an unusually long speech for the proprietor of the museum, and when it was ended he set an example to his guests by attacking the eatables as if he had not indulged in a square meal since the fair was opened.

Each person present imitated him, and Tim whispered to Teddy, when his mouth was so full of cake that it was only with the greatest difficulty his words could be understood:

"This is what I call a great snap, an' when I've been fakin' at the fairs long enough to get some money ahead I'll give fellers like us a good chance to fill up, the same as Mr. Sweet has done."

Dan was equally enthusiastic. In all his experience, which extended over two years at the very least, he declared that he had never seen so much done for a boy, and concluded by saying:

"There's no question, Teddy, but that you're a big gun here, an' I'll advise you to keep right on in this business."

"I've had enough of it," was the reply. "Such times as these are very nice; but think of what may happen when I'm brought up for trial. Who knows but Uncle Nathan can succeed in makin' folks think I'm guilty of helpin' the burglars, an' then what'll be the consequences?"

"I know he can't do anything of the kind, an' that's enough," was the confident reply; but yet it failed to satisfy the boy who had been bound over to appear at court.

The entire party appeared to be having the jolliest kind of a jolly time; but ever before Teddy's mental vision came the picture of himself in prison, and even the fact that Long Jim had been arrested failed to render him confident as to the final result.

Again and again was he called upon to reply as one after another wished him good luck in the case, and the amount of lemonade which was consumed on each occasion caused the clown to make a third visit to the town in order to purchase the wherewithal to satisfy the demands of the guests.

It was nearly midnight when the last of the revelers departed and the boys were called upon to help set the interior of the tent to rights.

"It hasn't been sich a bad time after all," Mr. Sweet said, musingly, as Teddy and Dan aided him in wheeling the wagon into place. "A man can remember an evening like this with pleasure, when liquor has been kept out of the bill of fare, an' who shall say that we're not better off than if our legs were so tangled as to make walking an impossibility?"

The barker's red nose was slightly elevated, much as if its owner could explain why spirits were superior to lemon-juice and water; but Mr. Sweet's question remained unanswered, and the party set about making the final preparations for the night.

"Poor Sam ain't here to be troubled by the goat, so we can set him loose," the proprietor of the museum said as he unfastened the rope from the neck of his pet.

"He'll have a great time pickin' up odds an' ends between now an' daylight, an' then feel so lazy that it'll be hard work to make him do his tricks."

"Do you suppose Uncle Nathan will be around in the morning?" Teddy asked as he lay down by the side of Dan and Tim.

"Not a bit of it; he got sich a dose to-night that I don't count on seem' him ag'in till this fair is ended, an' then I'm going to take a trip over to the Run for the express purpose of givin' him a piece of my mind."

"But suppose he should come, what shall I say?"

"Pay no attention to the old fool, an' above all, don't let him trap you into talking. Mr. Harvey will be here to-morrow, an' he can post you better than ever I could."

"Don't fuss about the thing at all," Dan replied, philosophically. "There's plenty here who know you hadn't anything to do with the burglaries, an' he won't have as much as a friend by the time the trial is ended."

"Dan comes pretty nigh being right," Mr. Sweet added, "an' now I want all hands to go to sleep, for there's one more day of this fair, an' we need to be somewhere near fresh, because to-morrow the dollars won't tumble without a good deal of coaxing. Good-night."