Miss Gordon’s Watch
That night not only the Brownies, but the circus children as well, were
so excited they could not eat much dinner.
“Just think!” Eileen declared to Rosemary. “We’re to be in a real
circus performance--not just a make-believe show! What a story we’ll
have to tell when we return to Rosedale!”
While the Brownies were excited at the thought of being in the circus,
Eva and the circus children could talk only of the Brownie Scout troop
which was to be organized. Miss Gordon and Miss Whitlock had spent an
hour together, discussing the investiture ceremony.
Eva, happier than she had been since Connie and Veve had joined the
circus, flew everywhere, issuing instructions. She was not satisfied
until she knew every detail had been arranged for the initiation.
“Will you do your somersault tonight?” Veve asked her as the time
approached for the evening performance to start.
“Of course,” replied Eva. “Who’s afraid? Not I. I’ll do that turn in
the air without thinking twice. Just don’t forget to blow the whistle
for my act.”
“We won’t forget,” promised Connie.
Just before the circus started, she and Veve were taken into one of the
dressing tents to be fixed up for their “special” number.
One of the clowns who was an expert at make-up, coated the children’s
faces with a cold-cream-like covering of zinc oxide and olive oil. This
was not very pleasant.
Then their faces were heavily dusted with white powder. Next the clown
painted on heavy red lines and lips with a stick of grease paint.
Connie sat very still while the job was being done, but Veve kept
twisting and wiggling.
“It tickles,” she complained.
Veve and Connie were dressed in clown suits and then they were ready
for their act. The starter of the circus told them where they were to
stand. They were instructed to remain out of view near the band players
until time for them to blow the silver whistle.
“I’ll let Connie start Eva’s riding act,” the man said. “And Veve may
end it.”
The music soon struck up, filling the big tent which by this time was
crowded with spectators.
Veve and Connie stood very still, feeling a tiny bit frightened.
“I’m glad we don’t have to ride a horse or swing on a trapeze,” Veve
whispered. “Then I _would_ be scared.”
The music had changed tempo, the signal for the opening procession.
Into the arena trooped the elephants, the horses and the performers in
their spangled costumes. Expectantly, Veve and Connie waited for the
arrival of the golden coach.
Soon it rolled into the sawdust ring, drawn by spirited white horses
with red and purple plumes.
Seated proudly in the coach were all the Brownies--Jane, Eileen,
Rosemary, Belinda and Sunny, who grinned from ear to ear.
“How grand they look!” Connie whispered.
Half way around the big ring the coach was drawn, and then the driver
halted the steeds in the center of the tent facing a large American
flag.
The band struck up a piece which the girls knew very well indeed, for
it began:
“We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim--
Lend a hand and play the game!”
As the coach halted, the Brownies smartly saluted, raising right hand
to the temple with the first two fingers straight and the baby finger
held down.
Everyone cheered and clapped, Connie and Veve longer and louder than
anyone else.
Then the music changed, the golden coach rolled on, and the circus
began. With their part over, all the Brownies except Veve and Connie,
crowded into the front seats to watch the show.
Whenever the whistle blew, the circus acts would change.
“It’s nearly time for Eva to ride now,” Veve whispered nervously.
“I--I wish we hadn’t promised to blow the whistle,” Connie said, her
teeth chattering.
The man in charge stepped over to where the two girls stood.
“All right,” he said in a low tone. “Come with me.”
Connie and Veve followed him to the edge of the center ring. The stands
were so filled with people they scarcely could see a vacant seat. High
in the tent, trapeze performers whirled back and forth on their swings.
The man thrust the silver whistle into Connie’s hand.
“Now!” he ordered.
Connie took a deep breath and blew a shrill blast. Instantly, the music
changed. Down the ropes slid the trapeze performers. And into the ring
rode Eva, her mother and father on their beautiful white horses.
The three riders went through their act, winning thunderous applause.
Eva at the right moment did the difficult somersault just as well as
she had in the afternoon show.
The man in charge of the circus was watching the act closely. Turning
to Veve, he gave the command:
“Now!”
Veve raised the whistle to her lips and blew as hard as she could.
Again the music changed. The riding act left the ring.
“Now scamper back to your places,” the circus man instructed the two
girls. “That will be all.”
Connie and Veve moved toward the exit, trying not to walk in front of
spectators. They both felt very proud and relieved, for they had blown
the silver whistle at exactly the right moment.
Suddenly Connie paused, staring at a man in the audience.
“Veve, look over there!”
“I can’t hear you,” answered Veve. “The band is making too much noise.”
“Look over in the fifth row of seats!” exclaimed Connie in a louder
voice. “Doesn’t that man look like Pickpocket Joe?”
Veve turned to stare at the spectator.
“Why, it does look a little like him,” she agreed. “Only I can’t see
him very well because of the bright lights.”
“Let’s find Clem Gregg right away,” proposed Connie. She was very
excited now.
“But are you sure it’s Pickpocket Joe, Connie? If we made a mistake,
Mr. Gregg might be annoyed at us for bothering him.”
Connie gazed again at the man who was watching the ring acts.
“I’m not real sure,” she admitted.
“Then let’s sneak out into the audience and get behind him,” suggested
Veve. “Perhaps we can see him better then.”
“All right,” agreed Connie. “Don’t look at him when we walk past.”
The girls found vacant seats almost directly behind the man. Connie
was certain he was the same person she had seen that morning at the
railroad station. But was he Pickpocket Joe?
“I wish he would turn his face this way,” she whispered to Veve.
“Watch me! I’ll make him do it.”
Deliberately, Veve gave the man a little kick with her shoe. The fellow
turned around quickly enough then.
“Say, be careful,” he said, scowling. “That’s my back you’re kicking.”
Now the man didn’t really glance at Veve or Connie. On the other hand,
the girls obtained an excellent view of his face. Plainly, he had a
large mole on his cheek.
“It’s Pickpocket Joe!” whispered Connie after the man had turned around
again. “Now what shall we do?”
“We ought to get Clem Gregg.”
“The circus is nearly over,” whispered Connie. “He might start to leave
before we could find Mr. Gregg and get back here.”
“Then let’s just keep watch. If we could catch him taking a pocketbook,
we’d have proof he’s a pickpocket.”
Connie thought for an instant and then had an even better plan.
“I’ll stay here and watch,” she offered. “You go as fast as you can for
Mr. Gregg.”
“I’ll get back as quickly as I can,” Veve promised, scurrying away.
For a while after she had been left alone, Connie sat very still,
scarcely taking her eyes from the man. He did not attempt to take
anyone’s money, but only watched the circus.
The minutes passed and Veve did not return with Mr. Gregg. Anxiously,
Connie looked about for them. She could not see Veve or the detective
anywhere in the audience.
All too soon, the show came to an end. As the crowd started to leave
the tent, the man also arose.
Connie scarcely knew what to do. She decided to follow the man, but
that was not easy because he walked directly into the dense crowd.
Connie had to wriggle and push to keep up with him.
The pickpocket was walking toward the exit. He did not appear to notice
that he was being followed.
After a while, Connie saw him press quite close to a fat, bald-headed
man.
“Beg pardon,” he mumbled. “Did I step on your foot?”
As Pickpocket Joe spoke, his hand slid deftly into the man’s coat
pocket. His fingers were very nimble. Had Connie not been expecting it,
she never would have seen him steal the billfold.
Hardly knowing what else to do, she tugged at the fat man’s sleeve.
“Oh, Mister!” she cried. “Your billfold has been taken. And _he_ took
it.” She pointed to Pickpocket Joe.
The bald-headed man clutched at his coat pocket.
“My watch is missing too!” he exclaimed. “Hey, you!”
Whirling around, he seized Pickpocket Joe by the coat-tails. The man
jerked away and started to squeeze through the crowd.
“Oh, he’s escaping!” cried Connie in alarm.
The fat man started after the pickpocket. However, he never could have
overtaken him, for he was too large to get through the crowd easily.
Connie also darted after the pickpocket, calling for help.
Now, unknown to her, assistance was close at hand. Veve, unable to find
Clem Gregg, had gathered the Brownies together. Even at this moment,
Miss Gordon, Mrs. Williams and the girls were coming directly toward
the pickpocket.
Miss Gordon saw the man at the very instant that Connie called for
help. And she recognized him as the stranger who had brushed against
her at the Rosedale circus.
“Spread out, girls!” she gave the order. “Form a ring around him.”
Veve and the other Brownies obeyed the command, hemming the pickpocket
in. Their action gave the fat man time to rush up and seize Pickpocket
Joe.
“Help! Help!” he shouted, and his voice carried a long distance in the
tent.
“Clem Gregg!” shrieked Connie.
Now the circus detective stood near the tent exit. Hearing the shouts,
he elbowed his way to where the Brownies had ringed in the pickpocket.
The thief jerked free from the fat man only to run straight into Clem
Gregg.
“Not so fast, Joe,” said the detective, seizing his arm and holding it
in a tight grip. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Let me go!” the man demanded angrily. “I’ve not done anything.”
“Yes, he has,” accused the fat man. “He took my billfold.”
“And he’s the same one who stole Miss Gordon’s watch and our Brownie
camp money,” added Veve excitedly.
Detective Gregg went through the man’s pockets. He found only one
wallet which did not belong to the fat gentleman. Nor was his missing
watch there either.
Veve and Connie were deeply puzzled. What had become of the articles?
They knew the pickpocket had taken them.
“I suppose you dropped the watch and billfold when you ran,” said the
detective to Pickpocket Joe. “An old trick of yours!”
“It may be an old trick, but you can’t prove anything,” the man
retorted. “You’ve no evidence.”
Mr. Gregg knew the pickpocket was right. If he turned him over to the
police, the man might bring a charge of false arrest.
Hearing the detective’s words, the Brownies started back through the
thinning crowd. Carefully they searched the sawdust for the missing
billfold and watch.
The girls still were searching unsuccessfully when Connie heard a lady
directly behind her exclaim:
“Well, I never! See what I’ve found!”
Connie whirled around in time to see the lady pick up an object from
beneath one of the board seats. She knew Pickpocket Joe had passed that
same place only a moment before his capture.
“Oh, give it to me, please!” she cried, hurrying toward the lady.
“Surely two watches and a billfold can’t belong to you,” replied the
one who had found the articles.
“_Two_ watches,” repeated Connie. “I saw Pickpocket Joe steal only one.”
Just then she caught a glimpse of the two watches. The large yellow
gold one obviously belonged to a man. The other was a lady’s wrist
watch, tiny and made of white gold.
Connie scarcely could believe her own eyes.
“Why, that’s the watch Pickpocket Joe stole back in Rosedale!” she
exclaimed. “It belongs to Miss Gordon!”