says all dar is. Now dat ar cat kain't talk none. An' no matter how I
stuffs her, she only licks her paws, an' looks fer more. And she ain't
no good as fer's comp'ny--real sosh'ble comp'ny whar dar is talkin'
goin' on, I mean. An' den jus' t'ink wat a beau'ful voice Jocko's got!"
At that Candace fairly beamed.
"Oh, I'll ask Grandpapa not to send Jocko to the Zoo, but to give him to
you," said Polly, preparing to spring off. "And I 'most know he will,
Candace."
But it was really unnecessary for her to do that, for Joel at this
moment dashed in, screaming out, "Grandpapa says yes, he does; Candace
can have Jocko!"
And presently Candace, chuckling in delight, was drawn within the big
mansion, Joel and Polly on either side, and Pip racing along in the
rear. And quicker than it takes to write it, the whole houseful knew
where Jocko's new home was to be, and everybody thronged around the
happy old black woman.
"Only don't blame me, my good Candace," said Grandpapa, laughing, whom
the uproar had drawn out of his writing room, "if that monkey eats up
all your shopful."
"He ain' a-goin' t' eat up my t'ings," declared Candace, dropping him so
many courtesies it was with extra difficulty she got the words out at
all.
"Look out that he doesn't," warned Grandpapa, and he laughed again.
"Well now, the next thing, I presume, in the order of arrangements, is
to see that Master Jocko gets down to your shop, for that he spends
another night here is not my plan for him."
"Oh, I'm going to take him down," announced Joel, easily.
"You!" exclaimed Grandpapa, and he laughed harder than ever.
"Yes, sir!" answered Joel, promptly, "and Candace is going too."
"Well, I guess Candace wouldn't want Jocko by the time they got to the
shop," said Jasper, _sotto voce_.
"I guess not too," said Ben, with a laugh.
"And I'm going too," declared Percy, pushing to the centre of the
circle.
"And so am I," said Van, "if Joel's going. Can't I, Grandpapa?" he
begged.
"Goodness, what a procession!" exclaimed Grandpapa; "and of course David
wants to go--eh, Davie, my lad?"
"Yes, I do," said David, "very much indeed, Grandpapa," and his blue
eyes shone.
"I thought so; and I see no reason why you shouldn't be in the party, if
all the other boys go. But, dear me, I couldn't allow it. Why, it would
be, for all the world, like a circus. And, besides, the monkey would get
away from you; he'd be sure to."
"Oh, no, Grandpapa, he wouldn't," howled Joel, quite beside himself with
disappointment, and the tears began to come. "I'd hold on to his chain
just as tight," and he doubled up his brown fists to show his capacity
for keeping things. "Please let me take him."
"No, no;" Grandpapa shook his white head. And he didn't look at Joe nor
at one of the other boys, either, for their eyes seemed to be giving
them so much trouble. "But I tell you what I will let you do; you can
all go down this afternoon and see Jocko in his new home. That is, if
Candace will allow it?" and he bowed his white head as courteously
toward her as if she had been a great lady.
"Fo' shore, Mas'r King," said Candace, showing all her teeth, her smile
was so expansive. "Jocko an' me'll be ter home, an' den I'll gib you de
candy sticks," she said, turning to Joel.
"Oh, goody!" exclaimed Joel. Then his face fell. "Oh, you can't, 'twould
take such a lot, Candace; we're all coming."
"Oh, yer go long," said Candace, poking him with her big black finger,
"ye're goin' to hab dem candy sticks. Yer Gran'pa's done gib me dat ar
monkey, an' don' yo' suppose I'm goin' ter gib nuffin'? Oh, yer go long,
Mas'r Joel."
Meantime Jasper was asking, "Well, Father, how are you going to get
Jocko down to Candace's?"
"It is something of a problem," said the old gentleman, stroking his
white head thoughtfully, "but the best way that suggests itself is," and
he hesitated and looked anxiously at Ben,--"it's too bad to ask it, but
could you take him, Ben, in the depot carriage? Thomas will drive you
down."
"Oh, I'll be company for Jocko," said Ben, laughing, "we'll have a fine
ride together."
"How I wish I could go with you," cried Jasper. "O dear me! I'm well
enough. Let me, Father, do!"
"The idea!" exclaimed the old gentleman, in horror, "and you've been so
sick, Jasper King!"
"O dear me! 'Twould be such fun," mourned Jasper.
"Well, Polly, you come," said Ben, persuasively.
"Yes," said Polly, "I will;" but her face drooped, and she couldn't look
at Jasper in his disappointment.
"And see here," old Mr. King cried suddenly, "Candace can drive down
too. So go get your monkey, and be off, Ben and Polly! And, Candace,
remember what I said, and don't blame me for whatever Jocko does in that
shop of yours," and Grandpapa went back to his writing room. But they
could hear him laughing even after he had closed the door.
It was one thing to plan this fine drive in such pleasant company to
introduce Jocko to his new home, and quite another to carry it out. In
the first place, the monkey couldn't be found in his accustomed little
room up next to that of Thomas over the stable. And Polly turned so pale
that Ben hastened to say, "Oh, nothing has happened to him; don't be
afraid, Polly. Nothing could happen to that monkey."
"Oh, there has; I know there has, Ben," she declared, clasping her hands
in dismay, while the rest of the children, all except Jasper, who, of
course, was shut up in the library watching proceedings as best he could
from one of the long windows, ran this way and that, calling frantically
on Jocko to come, with every imaginable blandishment they could think of
as inducement, and Candace sat down on the stable steps and wrung her
hands, and lifted up her voice in dismal cries.
This was as much worse as it was possible to be, than if Jocko had gone
to the Zoo, for now he had run away, of course, and probably never would
be found. "He's done gone to--whar's dat place he come from, Miss
Polly?" wailed Candace.
"India," cried Polly, hearing Candace's question, and running up in the
interval of exploring several places where Jocko might be expected to
hide. "Oh, he couldn't go there, Candace."
"Oh, yes, he could," contradicted Candace, obstinately; "he come from
dar, and he could go back dar;" and she redoubled her sobs.
"But he came in a big ship," cried Polly, laying her hand soothingly on
the fat shoulder. "Do stop crying, Candace, we'll find him soon, I
guess;" but she looked very much worried. "Have you found him, Ben?" she
asked in a low voice, as he suddenly appeared.
"No." Ben didn't really say the word, on account of Candace, but he
shook his head, and Polly running over to him, he drew her off into a
quiet corner. "I really believe the little scamp has run off."
"Oh, Ben, how very dreadful!" exclaimed Polly, turning quite white.
"Whatever shall we do with Candace, and what _will_ happen to Jocko? O
dear me!" and she wrung her hands.
"Well now, see here, Polly," said Ben, turning her around and gathering
up her hands in his bigger ones to hold them fast, "we have just got to
make the best of this, and--"
"Yes," Thomas was saying, and the rattling of a chain, together with the
sound of his foot-steps, struck upon their ears. "I thought I'd just
take the monkey out for a bit of an airing;" and in they both came to
the stable, he and Jocko together.
It was impossible to describe the delight of the whole company at the
restoration of the lost one. Jocko, who had felt his loss of caste
considerably since his escapade of the previous night, put on at once
his old airy demeanor, and capered and blinked and wrinkled up his face,
and wheedled and begged, and altogether quite outdid any of his former
attempts in that line, until the children hung over him and protested
that he must not leave them. Oh, no, he mustn't!
At that, Candace, who had found her feet in a surprisingly quick manner
at the monkey's entrance, began to take alarm at once, and her black
face fell.
"But he has just got to go," said Polly; "you know, boys, Grandpapa has
said so." And Ben reiterating the same thing, the children declared,
"Yes, he's going to Candace's."
"And you are going down to see him," cried Polly. "Do hurry, Ben, we
must take him right straight off, 'cause they want to go to Candace's
shop just as soon as ever they can."
So pretty soon the depot carriage, so called because it was one of the
vehicles for common use in the establishment, being all ready, with
Thomas, whip in hand, quite equipped for the start, Polly and Ben helped
Candace in, or rather Polly did, Ben having quite as much as he could do
to take care of Jocko; then Polly hopped in, and then Ben, with Jocko
crowding in between his legs, got in with some difficulty.
"Oh, wait, do wait," begged Davie, before the door was shut. "I want to
bid him good-by."
"Oh, Dave, you are going to see him in a little while," cried Joel,
trying to pull him back, "just as soon as we get down to Candace's
shop."
But David persisted. "He's going away," he said, "and I shall bid him
good-by from here."
"Yes," said Polly, "I think he ought to, Ben, because Jocko is going
away from this home."
So David climbed up on the carriage steps and shook Jocko's paw, and
said "Good-by" two or three times, because from the monkey's face he
didn't seem to realize the parting at all.
And then, as David had done it, why, Joel concluded that after all he
wanted to. So up he climbed on the carriage step, and went through the
same performance. Only he shook both of Jocko's paws. And then, of
course, Percy and Van had to do the same thing, each being a little
longer than the other about it.
And then little Dick piped up, standing on his tiptoes, "It's my turn;
I'm going to bid my Jocko good-by, I am."
"Yes, do lift him up, Joe," said Ben.
So Joel gave little Dick a good fine lift, Dickie protesting so
violently that he was going to get up on the carriage step himself, and
trying to kick off any assistance, that he was precipitated to the floor
of the carriage in a small heap.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Ben, huddling up Jocko, who pretended to be very
much frightened, "this is a circus, I'm sure."
"Well now, Dick, hurry and say good-by," said Polly, "for Grandpapa
expects us to start right off. And now, Phronsie. Come, pet!" as little
Dick shook Jocko's paws briskly and tumbled out.
Phronsie, who had waited patiently till her turn came to say good-by,
now put out her arms. "Take me, Polly," she said.
"Yes, I will," said Polly, flying out of the carriage. So Phronsie was
lifted in, when she laid her soft little cheek on Jocko's wrinkled face.
"I love you," she said, "and you are going to Candace's house."
"Oh, Phronsie," exclaimed Ben, with a grimace, trying to draw Jocko off.
But Phronsie was not quite through, so she held fast.
"And I'm coming to see you," she finished. Then she held up her arms for
Polly to lift her out.
And then Polly hopped in again, Thomas cracked the whip, and off they
went, Jocko showing a grinning face at the window, as long as the
children were in sight. Then he sat up straight and looked the stout
black figure on the opposite seat all over with extreme condescension.
XXVII
"MR. KING, WHO IS THAT PIP YOU HAVE HERE?"
"Well, you are all settled, old chap," said Ben, affectionately, with a
pat on Jasper's shoulder, "for a spell at least."
"That's so," said Jasper, in huge satisfaction, and running over to set
some books on his shelves; "good for Doctor Fisher that he won't let me
go back till the middle of the term! But I have to dig at these, though,
else I'll flunk when I do get there," as he crammed the last book into
place.
"But you're not to go at them before next week, Jasper," remonstrated
Ben, in alarm, and hurrying over to him, "you know Papa Doctor said so;
you know he did!"
"Oh, I won't have a bout with them until then," promised Jasper. "But
after that--then says I, why, I've simply _got_ to. Well now, Ben,
there's Pip!" He whirled around to regard Ben anxiously.
"I know it," said Ben, with a long face.
"I suppose the little chap has got to go back and face those boys," said
Jasper, ruefully.
Ben swung off on his heel and walked up and down the long apartment.
"You know just as well as you want to, Jasper King," he said, coming up
to stand squarely in front of the tall boy, "how it will be when Pip
gets back there."
"Yes, I know; but perhaps the boys will treat him better now," said
Jasper, yet he looked uneasy.
"Yes, for a while," said Ben, "I think they will;" then he burst out
with honest indignation, "but there are enough boys there who'll be at
their mean tricks soon enough, as long as you won't be on hand to make
them stand round,--you know that, Jasper, as well as you want to."
"Well, Pip is different now," said Jasper, determined to find all the
bright aspect possible to the case.
"I know he is," assented Ben, pounding his hand on the table, "ever so
much more like a boy, but that will soon be taken out of him, get him
back there without you, or any one who really cares a row of pins about
him."
"They shan't take it out of him. Oh, no, no!" cried Jasper, in great
distress. He really couldn't stop saying it.
"Yes," said Ben, obstinately, "they will."
"Well, what can be done about it?" demanded Jasper tossing his dark hair
away from his brow. And he put a hand on either sturdy shoulder; "Speak
out, now, old fellow, if you've a plan in your head, and I'm with you to
the last gasp," he added, in suppressed excitement.
"There isn't anything to be done," said Ben, slowly, his blue eyes
raised to the earnest ones looking him through and through, "except for
Pip to keep away from that school till you go back."
"_For Pip to keep away from that school_," echoed Jasper, faintly; "why,
he belongs there. Ben Pepper, what _are_ you saying?"
"I can't help it if he does belong there," said Ben. "The thing is to
get him away for a spell."
"How?" demanded Jasper, with a small shake of the broad shoulders.
"Your father can do it," said Ben, for answer.
"My father!" cried Jasper, in surprise. Then his hands fell away from
Ben's shoulders, and he backed slowly off.
"Yes, your father," reiterated Ben. "He can do anything, and you know
it."
"But Ben Pepper--you--you don't understand," said Jasper, very much
puzzled to think how Ben, usually so level-headed, could fall into such
a stupid misapprehension at this time. "Pip belongs to Doctor Presbrey;
that is,--why, you know the story. His father and mother are dead, and
he's in the care of the Doctor. Put there by a sort of a guardian down
in South America, where the forlorn little chap came from, and--"
"Oh, I know that whole story," said Ben, guilty of interrupting.
"Well, then, how can you go on so?" exclaimed Jasper, more than ever
bewildered that Ben should propose such a useless plan.
"Yes, but all that makes no difference," said Ben, snapping his fingers.
"Your father can make Doctor Presbrey let Pip off to stay here until you
go back." Ben set up his square shoulders and stood as tall as he could,
looking up obstinately at Jasper's face.
"Whew!" whistled Jasper. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets and
marched up and down the apartment, the same as Ben had done.
"You see, Doctor Presbrey is a sensible man," said Ben, firing one of
his reserve shots after the tall boy, "and when he knows how Pip has
changed since he's been here,--why, Joel has done wonders with him,--now
that man is going to let him stay on a bit."
"Joel hasn't done everything," observed Jasper, wheeling in his corner.
"And your father can make anybody do anything," broke in Ben, hurriedly.
"Father never likes to interfere with people," said Jasper, running
nervous fingers through his dark hair, and wrinkling it up into waves.
Then he tossed it back in irritation. "He'll never do it in all this
world, Ben Pepper!" and he strode off down the room again.
"Yes, he will," declared Ben, standing still in his tracks. Then he
fired another shot. "But of course he won't if you and I don't believe
in it."
"What do you mean?" cried Jasper, wheeling to run up and seize Ben's
jacket-button. "Why, I'm in favor of it, this plan of yours, Ben, only
it's perfectly useless to begin with;" his gray eyes turned dark with
feeling as he fixed them on Ben's face.
"That's no way to favor a thing," said Ben, quite unmoved, "not to
believe in it."
"But--but I can't say I believe in it, because I _don't_," declared
Jasper, quite as obstinately in his way.
"But you can go at it as if you wanted to believe in it," said Ben,
sturdily.
"Well, I will; I'll promise you that," said Jasper, "for I want it as
much as you do."
"I know it," said Ben, bobbing his head.
"All right; now we'll shove ahead on it," said Jasper, with a laugh.
"But Father--" and his face fell.
"If we want it," said Ben, "we've got to make him want it, too."
"Of course. Well, we'll try for it," said Jasper, swallowing hard. "But
there's the school; you see it interrupts all Dr. Presbrey's work over
Pip."
"I know it," said Ben, and his face fell. "But you know everybody said
Pip was so dull at school."
"Well, that's because he was such a forlorn little chap," said Jasper;
"poor mite, anybody would be dull where he wasn't wanted."
"That's just it," cried Ben, eagerly. "Well now, he'll study and take
hold of things with Joel and David, and Dr. Presbrey will be glad enough
to let him stay if it will only wake him up." Ben gave a gasp when he
had gotten through, for he wasn't much used to long sentences.
"Well, come on," Jasper picked him by the sleeve, "if we have it to do,
to ask Father, we best have it over with;" and he hauled Ben off, never
letting go till the two paused to knock on Mr. King's writing-room door.
Then just a breathing space, when it seemed to Jasper that he must make
a bolt and give up the whole thing.
"Come in!" called his father's voice; and the two boys found themselves
before the big writing-table, and looking down into his face. It wasn't
an auspicious moment, for a letter lay open that had evidently caused
the reader a bad quarter of an hour.
"What is it?" Old Mr. King looked sharply up from his fit of musing.
Jasper felt cold chills run all over him. As for Ben, he set his teeth,
and his right hand doubled up in his pocket.
"Never mind, Father," said Jasper, beginning to back toward the door,
"and beg pardon, Ben and I can come in another time if you will allow
us."
"You will be good enough to stay now, Jasper, that you and Ben are
here," said his father, decidedly, the irritation still remaining on
cheek and brow; and he set his keen eyes to work on both boys. "Now
then, what is it? Speak quickly, for I haven't much time to give you."
"Father," said Jasper, and he drew a long breath, "it's about Pip."
Old Mr. King took up the subject abruptly. "Well, what has he been
doing?" he demanded.
"He hasn't been doing anything," said Jasper, "that is, nothing bad.
It's about something we want you to do for him, Father."
"What?" It was only one word and it came out like a cannon-ball. Ben's
hand clenched together tighter yet, especially as he saw Jasper's cheek
turn white. "O dear," groaned Ben, "I ought not to have spoken to-day
when he's been so sick."
"Father," Jasper drew another long breath, then he looked steadily into
the sharp eyes, "if that poor little chap only needn't go back to school
yet. Dr. Presbrey will let him stay here until I go, if you only ask
him."
"_What?_" roared the old gentleman, amazed beyond his control.
"You know something of the hard time Pip has at the school," Jasper said
persuasively, and though his cheek was white, he still looked steadily
into the sharp eyes that now were blazing. "Oh, if you only would,
Father, get Dr. Pres--"
"And do you mean to say, Jasper, that you would wish me to prefer such a
request to Dr. Presbrey, that stern disciplinarian, that he should let a
boy off, especially one who is under his care in such a way as Pip is?
Preposterous!" Old Mr. King whirled around in his chair, then back
again, to bring his right hand emphatically on the table, till the
disturbing letter and all the nearest papers fluttered in the wind of
his indignation.
"Father," said Jasper; then he stopped a second for the right word. But
that wasn't allowed him.
"And that you should ask such a thing amazes me, Jasper. When did you
ever know your father to interfere in other people's affairs?--When,
indeed!" He was now so angry that he didn't seem able to contain himself
except by pushing about the things nearest to him; and, as his eye fell
again on the unlucky cause, he blazed forth, "Never ask me such a thing
again."
"It was my fault," blurted Ben.
"Then you are also to blame," curtly replied Mr. King.
"Father," began Jasper again, brokenly; then, without another word, he
turned and went out of the room. And Ben, getting out, he didn't know
how, followed him to the other end of the hall.
"Don't feel so," cried Ben, in a mortal terror for Jasper, Pip's cause
now being so much less, and laying his hand on the shaking shoulder.
"Oh, Jasper, don't."
"We've hurt Pip," said Jasper, his head on his arms, as he leaned on the
window-seat. "That's the worst of it. O dear me, Ben!"
"Perhaps not," said Ben, with a desperate attempt to be cheerful.
"Yes, we have," declared Jasper, gloomily. "Now we never shall get the
poor chap the least help; not in all this world, Ben Pepper!"
"Well, we've done our best," said Ben, yet his heart fell.
"And, oh, don't blame Father," said Jasper, quickly, and raising his
head a moment to look at Ben. "Don't, there's a good chap. He isn't
himself to-day,--he's had bad news. Can't you see for yourself, Ben?"
Jasper searched the round face eagerly.
"Of course I know it. Grandpapa wouldn't ever in all this world have
gone against it if I hadn't made you go in there to-day." Ben, in his
remorse, seized Jasper's shoulder and held on to it, saying it all over
again, to wind up with, "It's all my fault, and I've ruined Pip's chance
for sure now and made you sick on top of it all." Ben groaned, this time
quite aloud, and, despite his efforts, he broke down and threw himself
into the nearest chair, to bury his face in his hands.
"Oh, don't, don't!" begged Jasper, quite gone in distress to see, for
the first time in his life, Ben give way, and he stumbled over to him.
A door off in the distance opened, but the sound fell unheeded.
"Boys!" Up flew their heads, for there was old Mr. King beckoning with
an imperative hand. "Come to my room." And, not daring to look in each
other's face, they found themselves once more behind the dreadful door,
which was closed after them.
"Now, then, Jasper, my boy," and old Mr. King put a hand on his
shoulder, "you sit there," pointing to a chair on one side of the
writing-table, "and you, Ben, pull up another, there--that's right--get
on my left hand. Now we are quite comfortable,"--and he sat down in his
own big chair,--"where we can see each other and talk things over."
The old gentleman didn't look at them, but played with various trifles
scattered over the table, the unlucky letter not being in sight, until
such time as it might be supposed that everybody would be ready for
conversation. Then he broke out quite easily, as if the most
matter-of-fact thing were being said, "Well, now, that little matter of
Pip you were going to tell me of. What is it, Jasper,--eh?"
"I didn't mean to ask you to do anything out of the way, Father," said
Jasper, and his voice shook.
"Of course not, of course not," said his father, with a wave of the
hand. "Well, I was a bit unstrung, my boy,"--he ran his fingers through
his white hair,--"you must forgive your old dad." He coughed, twitched
out his handkerchief, blew his nose violently, but didn't seem to get
the better of it, especially as Jasper deserted his chair. "Oh, Father!"
he cried, falling on his neck.
Ben slipped off his leather chair and crept to the door.
"Hold on!" thundered old Mr. King at him. "Where are you going, sir?"
"I thought--perhaps--you'd--" stammered Ben.
"You're not to think. Come back and sit down." Old Mr. King pointed to
the chair, and Ben found himself on it again.
"And I've a word to say to you, Ben," said the old gentleman, "for
you're mixed up in this business."
"I know," said Ben, hanging his head.