LANKY BECOMES A “BARKER”
“That’s what I was thinking, Lanky,” Frank remarked, smiling at the
excited appearance of his lengthy chum, who had never fully mastered
the secret of controlling his emotions.
“Well, now, if that don’t just beat the Dutch!” exclaimed the other, as
if almost too amazed to express himself properly. “And Frank, I don’t
believe either of us would ’a’ got on to the curves of Rufus, if it
hadn’t been for the accident he met with, that broke open his bundle.”
“You’re right there, Lanky,” answered Frank, nodding his head in the
affirmative.
“The boys are hiding out somewhere in the woods, afraid to come home,”
went on the tall boy, with a wide grin; “here days have passed, and yet
they haven’t showed up. Most people are shakin’ hands with themselves,
and sayin’ it’s a good riddance of bad rubbish; but their folks are
worryin’ some, Frank. It’s low-down mean of Watkins Kline to scare his
mother so bad. She never would believe he was bad, you know.”
“I wonder what’s up, and why they hang out there all this while?” Frank
mused.
“Tell you what I think,” remarked his companion, with a wise look; “I
reckon it’s all Bill Klemm’s doings.”
“What makes you say that, Lanky?”
“Why he daren’t come back, you see, till it blows over,” Lanky went on.
“They lay it all to Bill, and there was a lot of talk about havin’ him
sent off to the reform school. Ten to one Bill’s got wind of that, and
he’s bound to hang out till the people of Columbia forget the worst of
it. Then some fine day he’ll show up in his old haunts; and ’cept for a
ripple of talk, it won’t be noticed.”
“I guess you’ve hit the nail on the head, Lanky,” Frank continued,
approvingly. “And not wanting to stay out in the woods all alone, Bill
has put the screws on Asa and Watkins, keeping them for company.”
“That’s the talk, Frank, as sure as you’re born. P’raps they calculate
to drop in next Wednesday, when the whole place is wild with interest
in the athletic contests; and nobody’ll have time to bother any about
such small fry as three boys who’ve been makin’ trouble at school.”
The two had been walking swiftly along while chatting in this manner;
and were drawing near the crossroads known far and wide as Budd’s
Corners, because Tom Budd’s father owned most of the property round
about that section.
It was here the gypsy tribe camped, year after year. Their appearance
always created considerable of a stir through the country. Men visited
the camp to talk horse gossip with the knowing male members of the
tribe. Women sometimes accompanied them, on the pretense of “just
looking around,” and finding out how these nomads lived; but secretly
in the hope that a chance might arise whereby they could get their
fortune told by someone connected with the tribe, possibly the queen
herself.
There were a few couples in sight, even then, coming from or heading
toward the gypsy camp. The boys were glad to see this. It would serve
to keep any of the gypsies from suspecting that their visit had any
particular meaning.
“What do you suppose that crowd is standin’ there for, gapin’ at
somethin’ fastened to that tree yonder?” Lanky asked, as they drew near
the spot where the gay wagons, and the tents of the road wanderers,
could be seen among the trees.
“Looks like they might be reading some notice; and there are a number
of gypsies in the lot, too,” Frank replied.
“Shucks! I know,” exclaimed the other, suddenly.
“I think I’ve guessed it, too,” Frank went on to say. “I remember that
bill-poster said he had a few more notices of the meet to stick up;
and the chances are he’s been along here in his buggy. Pudge Watkins
wouldn’t stop because it was Sunday. You never saw him at church in
your life.”
“That’s what!” echoed Lanky. “And looks like the gyps might be some
stuck on that colored show-bill, too, Frank. Hope they like it well
enough to figure on staying around this section till after the athletic
stunts have been pulled off.”
“Suppose we stop here a bit, and listen to what they say?” suggested
Frank.
“I’ll go you on that idea,” replied Lanky. “It may put us wise about
what they mean to do.”
Accordingly the two lads drew in toward the group that stood in front
of the placard tacked to the tree, where it could be easily seen from
the road. Just as both of them had guessed, it was one of the posters
gotten up by the wide-awake committee of arrangements, telling in
glowing language of the splendid program that had been made up for the
coming Wednesday afternoon.
Of course the boys had read it many times before. Indeed, they knew
about the whole thing from beginning to end. And yet, as both their
names occurred among the numerous entries for the prizes about to be
competed for, it was only natural that they should be pleased to stand
there, and listen to the various comments.
Some of the gypsy men were curious about the nature of the affair.
Evidently they had never been given the privilege of witnessing such
a tournament; and feeling a certain amount of interest in things that
pertained to manly sports, they were even then trying to get additional
information by “pumping” an old farmer, who, with his wife and three
small children, happened to be sitting in a wagon near by.
As he turned out to be almost as unfamiliar with the nature of the
meet as the road-roamers themselves, their success was not very
flattering. A couple of very small town boys who had wandered out that
way endeavored to supply the lack of knowledge, but did not seem to be
making much progress when Frank and Lanky came along.
Some of the gypsy men turned to the new arrivals with a list of
questions, and Lanky was only too willing to answer to the best of his
ability.
“Greatest thing that you ever saw, or will see, if you live a thousand
years,” he went on, in a way that made Frank smile, thinking that
his chum might get an engagement as a “barker” for some side show to
a circus. “Yes, sir, there will be the greatest crowd in and around
Columbia that was ever known. You’ll be mighty sorry to miss it, I
tell you. And the farmers who want to trade horses, they always just
flock to these athletic meets. I reckon anybody could do more business
in that line in two days, than a week at other times.”
Frank saw some of the gypsies look at each other and nod, as though
they rather fancied the idea. Business with them was already the first
consideration. They may have thought that they had about exhausted the
horse trade around the immediate vicinity of Columbia; but if farmers
for a radius of twenty miles and more would be in town with their
vehicles on that wonderful occasion, well, that certainly put another
face on the matter.
“It’s working, Lanky,” Frank managed to say in a low tone to his chum.
“Keep it up, and you’ll get the whole lot to see things your way.”
“Huh! takes your Uncle Lanky to do the grand chinning act,” muttered
the tall boy, proudly. “I can soft-soap to beat the band, when I want
to. Got ’em started on the right track; and now I’ll just say a few
more words to clinch things.”
Some of the gypsies, after talking between themselves, started to
ask questions; and as these applied to the actual events that were
scheduled to take place, Frank felt that he could take it upon himself
to answer as well as his comrade.
He described some of the competitions that seemed to puzzle the
nomads, as shot-putting, throwing the hammer, hurdle racing, sack
racing, and such things so familiar to all schoolboys in these days.
The group grew around the two boys. Others of the campers began to
be drawn to the spot, as the two lads continued to talk and explain
things. Presently even a few of the women wandered that way; and the
children were already clustered in knots, listening, nodding their
black locks, and looking wise from time to time, as if what was Greek
to their elders might not be so unfamiliar to them.
Lanky was very much in earnest. He did not feel that the success of the
athletic meet depended at all upon whether the gypsies voted to remain
over a few more days or not; but he did believe that the carrying
out of the plans he and Frank had arranged would be affected by this
decision.
By degrees the men seemed to be impressed with the brilliant chance
that opened up before them for doing a land-office business in horse
trading with the army of “hoosiers” who Lanky declared would flock to
the meet, many of them remaining over in town several days to do their
summer shopping, thus killing two birds with one stone.
“I’ve got ’em on the jump, Frank,” he whispered to his chum, as he saw
the group of men excitedly discussing something that seemed to be of
considerable importance. “They’re set on stayin’ over, you see. Looky,
there goes a bunch back to camp; and I’m thinkin’ they’re going to see
the queen, to put the thing up to her. Hope now she listens to ’em, and
says stay.”
A few minutes later the same men came hurrying back.
“No use askin’ what they did, Frank,” remarked Lanky, exultantly; “just
take a peep at their grinning faces; doesn’t that tell the story?”
“I reckon you’re right, Lanky,” admitted the other, readily enough.
“That means they stay right here; doesn’t it, Frank? They’ll be on
hand if that telegram only happens to come along to-morrow, Tuesday
or Wednesday. Hope it gets a hustle on by then. If it doesn’t, I’ll
give the game up as a bad job, and call myself a poor detective, who
couldn’t detect a clue as big as Squire Perkins’ new barn.”
“Well, the way you ran this little dodge, and tempted the men to stay
over, tells me you’re going to do better things right soon!” declared
Frank.
“Do you really believe that?” demanded the other, who was always glad
to hear Frank praise him.
“I certainly do, Lanky. And what you’ve done right here is no little
job. It gives you the extension of time you wanted, and holds the gates
wide open.”
“They’re going to stay, Frank!” said Lanky in a low tone, after
listening to what those who had just come from the camp said to their
comrades still clustered near the tree bearing the flaming placard.
“Three days’ grace, Frank. Isn’t that just bully for us, though? Sure
that telegram must get here before all that time slips past. Say, our
folks might read us a lecture if they saw us here, blowing our horns
about the grand athletic tournament; but, Frank, when I just remember
what we’re doing it all for, I don’t feel that it’s wrong. I’d go
still further to help----” but his chum held up a finger, and gave a
significant warning hiss, to cut his impetuous exclamation short.