CHAPTER XXVIII

THE LAW AGAIN

Hervey felt that he and Diving Denniver were pretty much alike after

all. The wonder of two continents beat all the boy scouts put together.

And he had now a fine precedent for his repudiation of authority. Diving

Denniver cared naught for cops and signs. Hervey would have been glad to

go into any court and cite this high authority, confounding the powers

with this frankfurter episode. He was sorry he had not told Diving

Denniver of his swimming across the lake at Temple Camp (during rest

period which was against the rules). Instead of an honor he had received

a reprimand for that. He was a little afraid that some of the other boys

would visit the wonder in his tent, but in fact there wasn’t much danger

of that. The wonder was too much off the beaten track for most boys.

Their thoughts did not carry behind the scenes.

Hervey was now in much perplexity whether to witness the thrilling

exploit from the audience the next night or to view it from the sanctum

of the hero. In either case he intended to visit the remote scene of

enchantment with two frankfurters. He decided that he would not demean

himself by gazing at his hero with the idle throng. He even negotiated

an extra hour out from Mr. Walton in anticipation of his second visit to

the hermit of the ladder.

He could not possibly reach the place in the daytime, and besides, he

had to take up some bulbs for his stepmother the next day. For this and

other services he was to receive fifty cents. Twenty-five of this would

pay his admission to the carnival. With the other twenty-five he

intended to furnish forth a banquet of frankfurters for his hero and

brother daredevil. He could not afford to go twice in the day. He had

some thought of effecting an entrance over the high fence into the field

and having his entire fifty cents for the post-exploit feast. But

reckless as he was, he was cautious in this matter of reaching the

tent--there was so much at stake! So he decided to go respectably in

through the entrance and then cross the rope fence where the “Positively

No Admittance” sign was placed. It was not often that he showed such a

conservative spirit.

At half past eight, he found Diving Denniver strolling around in his

bathrobe outside the tent. Within, the odor of fried bacon and coffee

still lingered.

“You back again?”

“Sure, I want to see you from right here, and afterward I’m going to go

and get some more frankfurters. After you’re finished will you let me go

about ten or fifteen steps up the ladder and try it?”

Diving Denniver did not trouble himself to answer, but he ruffled

Hervey’s hair good-humoredly as he ambled about smoking his cigarette.

“Much of a crowd over there?” he asked.

“_Oh bimbo_, they’re all waiting. They stop dancing even when you go

up,” Hervey said.

“You’re a pretty slippery kid, all right, ain’t yer?” Denniver said.

“Ain’t there no guy up there at the rope?”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when both he and Hervey became

aware of a policeman who had just come around the side of the tent. But

Hervey, though astonished, was not perturbed, for he believed that the

wonder of two continents would protect him. One word from Diving

Denniver and he would be safe. He even ventured a defense himself.

“I’m going to do an errand for him,” he said.

“You can ask him yourself. So I’ve got a right to be here.”

But it appeared that it was Diving Denniver with whom the officer had

business. “Are you Charles McDennison?” he asked.

“Yere, what’s the dope?” the wonder asked, with a kind of weariness in

his voice.

Hervey was astonished, not to say shocked, that Diving Denniver

acknowledged the name of Charles McDennison.

“Let’s look at your permit,” said the officer.

Mr. McDennison entered the tent, presently emerging with a paper.

“That’s no good here and you know it’s no good,” said the officer.

“Wainboro! And a year old too. Why didn’t you come and get your permit

when you got to town? You’ve been in this game long enough to know

you’ve got to do that. All these concessions have permits, except those

under carnival management.”

“Some towns--” began McDennison.

“Never mind about some towns. You know you’ve got to get a permit in

this town. Why didn’t you do it?”

The harassed performer began again, “You guys----”

“Never mind about that now,” said the officer. “I was sent here to see

your permit and to bring you down to the office if you didn’t have it.

You know all about it; you were at the Elks’ Fair three years ago. You

better come along and get your permit, Charlie. You’ll have to take care

of a fine, too.”

“You don’t mean now?” the diving wonder asked. “Ain’t you going to leave

me do my trick? I go on in about five minutes. You fellers sure got the

knife in us. If I belonged in this here town----”

“Come on, McDennison,” said the officer in a way of quiet finality. “You

know the game as well as I do. We’re not interested in your trick, only

your permit. Come on, get your duds on. I guess you’ve been through all

this before. Come on, speed up.”

Diving Denniver cast his cigarette from him, bestowing a look of

unutterable contempt on the officer. In that sneering scorn he seemed to

include the whole of Farrelton and all constituted authorities the world

over. And Hervey joined him in his contempt and loathing. Diving

Denniver _had_ been through all that before. He knew the permit towns

and the non-permit towns and the towns where a “tip” would save him the

expense of a permit. Hervey had not dreamed that this enchanted creature

ever had to do anything but dive, he did not know that the wonder of two

continents had hit Farrelton penniless.

I will not recount the language used by Diving Denniver as he pulled on

a shabby suit of clothes and threw a funny little derby hat on the back

of his head. How prosaic and odd he looked! But his language was not

prosaic; it was quite as spectacular as his famous exploit--his trick,

as he called it. Poor McDennison, it was all he had to sell--his trick.

And sometimes he had so much trouble about it.

A funny little figure he made trotting excitedly along with the officer,

his derby hat on the back of his head bespeaking haste and anger. He

smoked a cigarette and talked volubly and swore as he hurried away,

leaving Hervey staring aghast.

Such a troublesome and distracting thing it is to be a wonder of two

continents.

Hervey Willetts · 第 28 / 36 章