AT LAST
Of course, Hervey was never in any danger of being sent to prison for
robbery. As soon as he was arrested and made to tell his story, Mr.
Walton annoyed, but unruffled, saw the thing in its true light. He went
to the all night lunch room near the station and made sure that Hervey
had gone there; then he verified the boy’s statement that the name of
Manners was not in the ’phone book.
Quietly he even inquired among boys the meaning of _collop_. And he
learned on the highest juvenile authority that it did not signify
stealing nor an intent to steal. But Horton Manners had made the charge
of robbery and so the whole business had to be aired in court. Mr.
Walton was a man of few words; it would be interesting to know what he
really thought of Horton Manners.
As for Hervey, he quite forgot the affair within an hour of the time it
was over. He had been appalled to find himself the custodian of a
hundred and more dollars, but now that he had got it off his hands, he
went upon his way rejoicing. He never looked either backward or forward;
the present was good enough for him. It is significant that he bore no
malice toward Horton Manners. Once or twice he referred to him as
Arabella; then he forgot all about him. He could not be bothered hating
anybody; nor caring a great deal about anybody either.
A few prominent townspeople financed the Firemen’s Carnival and it was
held after all. Shows and acts were engaged, the merry-go-round revolved
to the accompaniment of its outlandish music, the peanut and lemonade
men held form; you could see the five-legged calf for “a dime ten
cents,” and Biddle’s field presented a gala scene. The boys of Farrelton
went round and round trying to stab the brass ring, they drank red
lemonade and time after time gazed spellbound at the five-legged calf.
Hervey did not care about seeing the five-legged calf unless he could
sneak in under the canvas fence, and he could not manage that because of
the man who kept shouting and slapping the canvas with his stick. In
common with all the other boys he was thrilled at the sight of Diving
Denniver who ascended a ladder to a dizzy height and dived from it into
a small tank directly below. Diving Denniver did this thing twice a day,
and his night performance was the more thrilling because it was in the
glare of a searchlight whose long beam followed him in his slow ascent
of the frail looking ladder and showed him in a circle of light when he
paused for one thrilling moment at the top. He earned his living in this
way, going around exhibiting at carnivals and amusement parks, and he
was the big feature of the Farrelton carnival.
Hervey was not content simply to behold this daredevil exploit. He saw
it twice in the daytime and once at night, and he could not stand the
strain of being restricted to the enjoyment afforded a gaping audience.
That is where he differed from other boys. It was this something in his
nature that prevented him from reading boys’ books; he could not intrude
into the hair-raising adventures and so he had no use for them. The most
thrilling stories were utterly dead stuff to Hervey.
But here he could intrude. It was after he saw the night performance
that he felt the urge to penetrate to the hallowed spot whence that
enchanted daredevil emerged in his theatrically cautious ascent of the
ladder. The nature of the spectacular feat required that it be performed
at a distance from the body of the carnival. As soon as the band started
playing _Up in the air mid the stars_, the long column of light was
directed on the ladder which appeared as if by magic a hundred yards or
so from the thronged area of the carnival. Every eye was then fixed with
expectancy as a white figure arose into view, moving up, up, up, to a
little surmounting platform. Then the sensational dive, after which the
pleasure seekers ate, drank and were merry again.
But Hervey could not go back to any merry-go-round after that, and red
lemonade had no solace for him. He wandered off from those festoons of
electric lights, away from the festive groups, into the darkness. Before
him, down near the edge of Biddle’s field, was a tiny light. Soon he
came to a rope fence which cut off the end of the field from the public.
Beyond this were wagons and huge cases standing in the darkness, the
packing and transporting paraphernalia of the motley shows. In a
monstrous truck that stood there the multi-colored prancing horses of
the merry-go-round would be loaded and have a ride themselves.
On an upright of this rope fence was a sign which read POSITIVELY NO
ADMITTANCE. Hervey entered just where the sign was placed. A hundred or
so paces brought him to the holy of holies, a little tent at the foot of
the towering, slender ladder. In the darkness its wire braces, extending
away on each side to their anchorages in the earth, could not be seen.
Almost at the foot of the ladder was a tank perhaps fifteen or eighteen
feet square. Close by the tent was a Ford sedan, and Hervey crept
reverently up to it and read the words on the spare tire cover DIVING
DENNIVER. On the lower part of the circumference was printed THREE
HUNDRED FOOT DIVE. Diving Denniver believed in advertising. In that tent
lived the enchanted mortal.
Hervey lingered in awe as a pilgrim might linger at a shrine before
entering. Then he walked rather hesitatingly to the open flap of the
tent. On a mattress which lay atop a huge red chest reclined Diving
Denniver in a bath robe. The chest had DIVING DENNIVER printed on it, as
also did a large leather grip, which bore the additional information
WONDER OF TWO CONTINENTS. If the world could not see Diving Denniver on
his dizzy perch, it at least could read about him. Besides the makeshift
divan the tent contained a rough table formed by a red board laid on two
saw horses.
On this was a greasy oil-stove and one or two plates and cups. In his
illicit wanderings, Hervey had at last trespassed through the golden
gates into heaven.
“I was walking around,” said he, rather unconvincingly.
Diving Denniver, a slim young man of about thirty, was smoking a
cigarette and looking over a magazine. It seemed incredible that he
should be thus engaged so soon after his spectacular descent.
“Bimbo, that was some pippin of a dive,” said Hervey. Then, as Diving
Denniver made no attempt to kill him, he ventured to add, “Oh _bambino_,
that’s one thing I’m crazy about--diving.”
“Didn’t the cop see you?” the marvel asked.
“Leave it to me,” said Hervey. “There isn’t any cop there anyway. Cops,
that’s one thing I have no use for--nix.”
“Yere?” queried Diving Denniver, aroused to slight amusement.
“Do you--do you feel funny?” Hervey ventured as he gazed upon the wonder
of two continents.
“Where did yer git that hat?” asked the god of the temple. “What’s all
them buttons you got on it?”
“I climbed way down a cellar shaft to get one of those buttons,” said
Hervey, anxious to establish a common ground of professional sympathy
with this celebrity. “That’s the one,” he indicated, as he handed
Denniver his hat; “the one that says VOTE FOR TINNEY. He didn’t get
elected and I’m glad, because his chauffeur’s a big fool; he chased me,
but he couldn’t catch me. Some of those holes I cut out with a real
cartridge shell, like you cut cookies. I bet you feel funny, hey?”
“Yere?” said Diving Denniver, examining the hat. “Well, do you think yer
could go back up there where the big noise is and then come back here
again--without gettin’ stopped?”
“You mean you dare me to?”
Diving Denniver roused himself sufficiently to reach over to a box and
grope in the pocket of a pair of ordinary trousers, the kind that
mortals wear. Then he tossed a quarter to Hervey. “Chase yourself back
there and get a frankfurter,” he said; “get a couple of ’em. And don’t
leave the cop see yer.”
So the wonder of two continents ate frankfurters--and scorned cops. More
than that, he and Hervey were going to eat a couple of frankfurters
together. At last Hervey felt that he had not lived in vain.