_THE FAKIRS' PARTY._
The idea of a party in the museum tent, where there would be no guests
save fakirs, struck Teddy as being very comical, and he laughed heartily
despite the fact that he was still virtually a prisoner in the meshes of
the law; but at the same time he did not think Mr. Sweet was really in
earnest when he made the proposition.
It was not many moments, however, before he understood that the party
was to be given in the most elaborate manner possible.
On arriving at the tent Mr. Sweet sent the bouncer out with invitations
to such of the fakirs as remained on the grounds all night, or lived in
the immediate vicinity, and at the same time the clown started for the
town in order to purchase refreshments.
"Now, you boys are to take right hold an' help the best you know how,"
the proprietor of the museum said as he pulled off his coat and vest
preparatory to making ready for the feast. "If them as comes want to sit
down it must be on the ground, owing to the lack of chairs, therefore
it don't make much difference if the table is a trifle high."
[Illustration: "We have only one knife," said Mr. Sweet, to the
amusement of the boys, "and it must serve for all hands."]
To the surprise of the boys he proceeded to convert the wagon into a
"festal board" by first pulling it into the center of the tent, and then
removing the sides. Over the floor of this newspapers were spread, and
two plates, three forks, one knife, and four tin dippers were placed on
the impromptu cloth.
"The provisions will be cut ready for eating," Mr. Sweet explained, "so
one knife must serve for all hands, and it won't hurt any of the crowd
if they're obliged to take turns using the dippers."
The clown returned before the guests began to assemble. He brought cold
sausage, sliced ham, cold fried potatoes, sweet crackers, cake, pie, and
a quantity of lemons and sugar.
Contrary to his expectations, Mr. Sweet did not think this assortment
sufficient for the kind of a dinner he proposed to give, and the
messenger was forced to return in search of cheese, pickled pig's feet,
sardines, and milk for the coffee.
Matters were in a decided state of confusion when the first of the
guests arrived. Mr. Sweet, not troubled by the absence of dishes, had
placed the various articles on the wagon-table in the brown paper
coverings as they had been received, and it was upon his skill as a
maker of coffee that he based his reputation as a host.
Therefore everything was neglected for this one important thing, and the
proprietor was standing over the oil stove with a look of grave
responsibility on his face when the owner of the envelope game and his
assistant arrived.
"The boys will take care of you," he said, hurriedly, bending over the
huge pot to inhale the odor, in order to know exactly how the berries
were adapting themselves to the infusion, and, much to his surprise,
Teddy found himself the one especial feature of the party.
All on the ground had evidently heard of his arrest, for each new
arrival asked concerning the events of the evening, and, what was more
to the purpose, so far as he was concerned, all seemed to think his
troubles were only temporary.
"You'll come out of it all right," the manager of the largest sandwich
booth said, confidently, as he entered with his hat on one side of his
head and a cigar held in his mouth at an angle of forty-five degrees. "I
heard of your uncle last year, when he tried to make trouble for a
friend of mine in the spittoon game, an' you can bet your bottom dollar
that the people here are not going to take much stock in what he says."
"It seems they did, so far as to issue a warrant for my arrest," Teddy
replied, with a mirthless smile.
"But that won't amount to anything. I hear you have got John Reaves as
a friend, an' he comes pretty near runnin' things to suit himself in
Peach Bottom. He helped my friend out of the scrape your uncle put him
into, an' folks say there's no love lost between him an' Nathan
Hargreaves."
"I want to get out of my trouble simply on the ground that I am not
guilty," Teddy replied. "If I am charged with aiding burglars, there's
precious little consolation in being set free simply because people do
not like the man who made the charge."
"Nobody believes you guilty, and for the matter of that I'm certain
Hazelton had nothing to do with the job. His game ain't exactly square;
but he don't go around breaking into stores."
Teddy was on the point of telling that Long Jim had been arrested
because of the burglaries committed; but he remembered in time that this
fact was as yet a secret, and remained silent.
The man who leased the only "Great African Dodger" was the next to
arrive, and he also seemed to think it necessary to condole with the
young fakir in his troubles, as did the remainder of the guests, and by
the time all were assembled Teddy began to think his experience was only
such as every other person in the tent had undergone at some time in his
career.
"You see this is the way the matter stands," the whip man said,
confidentially, while Mr. Sweet was bending all his energies to mixing
the lemonade. "People think fakirs are the worst class of men in the
world, whereas, if the matter was sifted right down, they'd find the
class as a whole was honest because they couldn't afford to be
otherwise. I'm not talking now about those who run strong games, like
Hazelton; but ourselves who do a legitimate business. You've got canes
an' knives to sell, while I deal in whips; now all we want is a fair
show to dispose of our goods, an' we know everything must be done on the
square, or there's bound to be trouble sooner or later, consequently we
keep straight, an' take all the abuse which those who have come to
swindle the folks deserve. Why, what, I ask you, would the managers of
these fairs do if they couldn't get us to come up with our money for
privileges? They couldn't pay expenses, an' that's the whole amount of
the story. They run after us, an' yet when we come there's the same old
howl about swindlers."
The man talked until he was literally forced to stop for lack of breath,
and Teddy had not so much as spoken; but proved a good listener, which
was all his condoler appeared to expect of him.
When the clown returned with the last installment of eatables there was
nothing to prevent the assembled crowd from partaking of Mr. Sweet's
hospitality. The coffee was done to a turn; the lemonade was neither too
sour nor too sweet, and the proprietor of the museum summoned his
guests to the feast by saying:
"Now turn to an' fill yourselves up. It ain't often I do this sort of
thing; but somehow or other I've got a reg'lar admiration for our
cane-board fakir, an' after comin' out as he has to-night it seems only
right we should kinder spread ourselves. There's no liquor in the tent,
which is as it should be, for I'm a temperance man, an' them as wants it
can make hogs of themselves somewhere else. Take hold hearty, an'
remember that this layout is in honor of them as did a good turn to the
whole gang by savin' the lives of the women what would likely have
drowned if there hadn't been any fakirs in the country."
This was an unusually long speech for the proprietor of the museum, and
when it was ended he set an example to his guests by attacking the
eatables as if he had not indulged in a square meal since the fair was
opened.
Each person present imitated him, and Tim whispered to Teddy, when his
mouth was so full of cake that it was only with the greatest difficulty
his words could be understood:
"This is what I call a great snap, an' when I've been fakin' at the
fairs long enough to get some money ahead I'll give fellers like us a
good chance to fill up, the same as Mr. Sweet has done."
Dan was equally enthusiastic. In all his experience, which extended
over two years at the very least, he declared that he had never seen so
much done for a boy, and concluded by saying:
"There's no question, Teddy, but that you're a big gun here, an' I'll
advise you to keep right on in this business."
"I've had enough of it," was the reply. "Such times as these are very
nice; but think of what may happen when I'm brought up for trial. Who
knows but Uncle Nathan can succeed in makin' folks think I'm guilty of
helpin' the burglars, an' then what'll be the consequences?"
"I know he can't do anything of the kind, an' that's enough," was the
confident reply; but yet it failed to satisfy the boy who had been bound
over to appear at court.
The entire party appeared to be having the jolliest kind of a jolly
time; but ever before Teddy's mental vision came the picture of himself
in prison, and even the fact that Long Jim had been arrested failed to
render him confident as to the final result.
Again and again was he called upon to reply as one after another wished
him good luck in the case, and the amount of lemonade which was consumed
on each occasion caused the clown to make a third visit to the town in
order to purchase the wherewithal to satisfy the demands of the guests.
It was nearly midnight when the last of the revelers departed and the
boys were called upon to help set the interior of the tent to rights.
"It hasn't been sich a bad time after all," Mr. Sweet said, musingly, as
Teddy and Dan aided him in wheeling the wagon into place. "A man can
remember an evening like this with pleasure, when liquor has been kept
out of the bill of fare, an' who shall say that we're not better off
than if our legs were so tangled as to make walking an impossibility?"
The barker's red nose was slightly elevated, much as if its owner could
explain why spirits were superior to lemon-juice and water; but Mr.
Sweet's question remained unanswered, and the party set about making the
final preparations for the night.
"Poor Sam ain't here to be troubled by the goat, so we can set him
loose," the proprietor of the museum said as he unfastened the rope from
the neck of his pet.
"He'll have a great time pickin' up odds an' ends between now an'
daylight, an' then feel so lazy that it'll be hard work to make him do
his tricks."
"Do you suppose Uncle Nathan will be around in the morning?" Teddy asked
as he lay down by the side of Dan and Tim.
"Not a bit of it; he got sich a dose to-night that I don't count on
seem' him ag'in till this fair is ended, an' then I'm going to take a
trip over to the Run for the express purpose of givin' him a piece of
my mind."
"But suppose he should come, what shall I say?"
"Pay no attention to the old fool, an' above all, don't let him trap you
into talking. Mr. Harvey will be here to-morrow, an' he can post you
better than ever I could."
"Don't fuss about the thing at all," Dan replied, philosophically.
"There's plenty here who know you hadn't anything to do with the
burglaries, an' he won't have as much as a friend by the time the trial
is ended."
"Dan comes pretty nigh being right," Mr. Sweet added, "an' now I want
all hands to go to sleep, for there's one more day of this fair, an' we
need to be somewhere near fresh, because to-morrow the dollars won't
tumble without a good deal of coaxing. Good-night."