A VISITOR IN THE NIGHT.
A great deal of money changed hands that day. The stock buyers had their
wallets loaded with cash when they came a-buying, for, when they had cut
out the cattle they wanted, and the price was struck, they were prepared
to drive them off at once.
The sales at the round-up had been large, and Ted and the boys sat up
late that night, after those guests who had elected to remain over for
the festivities of the next day were safely in bed, counting the money
and going over the books.
"It has been a mighty good year for us, boys," said Ted, as he
contemplated the total of their sales.
"Yes, and, best of all, it leaves us with all the old stock disposed of,
and nothing but young and vigorous animals with which to begin building
up again," said Kit, who had a great head for the cattle business and a
faculty for seeing into the future.
"What aire we goin' ter do with all this yere mazuma?" asked Bud,
looking over the stacks of fifties, twenties, tens, and fives that lay
on the table around which they were sitting in the living room, and
which was flanked by piles of gold and a few hundred-dollar bills.
"Can't get it into the bank until day after to-morrow," said Ted. "We'll
be too busy to-morrow looking after our guests, and I don't suppose
we'll be free until after the dance to-morrow night. Still, I'm not
worrying about it. We know everybody here to-night, and I'll take care
of it till we can ride over to Strongburg and bank it."
Just then the door blew open with a bang, and big Ben scurried in,
bringing with him a blast of prairie wind, crisp and chill from the
mountain, that scattered the greenbacks all over the room, and two or
three of the fives were blown into the fire and incinerated before any
one could rescue them.
"Close that door!" shouted Bud, grasping frantically at the money that
was capering over the top of the table.
Ben closed the door with a slam that shook the house.
"'A fool and his money is soon parted,'" quoted Ben, when he saw the
havoc wrought by the wind.
"You bet," said Kit "Three fives blew into the fireplace, and are no
more. We'll just charge them to your account."
"Like dolly, you will!" said Ben.
"If it hadn't been for you they wouldn't be there. What's the reason we
won't?"
"Because you won't. I didn't make the wind."
"No, but consarn ye, ye let it in, an' ye're an accessory before er
after ther fact. I reckon both," said Bud.
"Let it go, boys," said Ted. "Pick up the bills, and we'll count and
stack them again."
"Where have you been, anyway?" asked Kit, addressing Ben.
"Down beddin' my show for the night. They're about all in now. All
except the music, which will be here in the morning," replied Ben. "I'm
not at all stuck on myself, but--"
"Oh, no, you've got a very poor opinion of yourself, I guess," said Kit.
"But I want to say that I think I got the bunkie-doodelest show that
ever paced the glimmering, gleaming, gloaming grass of Moon Valley."
"Listen to the hombre explode," said Bud. "He's tryin' ter be a feeble
imitation o' a real showman. I'll bet he shows up ter-morrer like a
ringmaster in a sucuss, with high, shiny boots an' a long whip an a
tall, slick hat, an' crack his whip an' say: 'What will ther leetle lady
hev next?'"
Ben blushed, for his ambitions in the show line, now that he had had a
taste of it, had really been in that direction, only he wouldn't have
had the boys know it for the world.
"How about the show, anyhow, Ben?" asked Ted.
"What have you got? You might as well let us know now."
"Not on your autobiography," answered Ben haughtily. "I want to say,
though, that your eyes will bulge like the knobs on a washstand drawer
when you see what I've got, and then come to look at the bill for such a
stupendous, striking, and singularly successful aggregation of freaks,
acts, and divertisements embodied in this colossal and cataclysmic
congregation of--"
"Oh, cheese it," said Kit. "You give me the pip."
"All right, have it your own way," sighed Ben. "This is what a fellow
gets for serving his country, from Thomas Jefferson to John D.
Rockefeller."
"Come on," said Ted persuasively. "Loosen up and tell us what we are to
have to-morrow. This is an executive session of the whole."
"You're like a lot of kids the day before Christmas. You've just got to
see what mamma's hidden in the closet," said Ben. "Well, I'll let you in
on a little of it."
"Shoot when you're ready," said Kit.
"I was over at Strongburg about a month ago, and, knowing that I'd have
to rustle up a show soon, I wrote to a theatrical agent in Chicago to
let me know if he could furnish me with a good amusement company at
small cost. He wrote me that he had the very thing, and offered me one
of these bum 'wild west' shows, with a bunch of spavined ponies, a lot
of imitation cowboys, fake Indians, and Coney Island target shooters."
"An' yer didn't take 'em?" asked Bud, in surprise.
"Tush! Well, I was up against it, when Morrison, the hotel man, told me
that there was a showman in town, and perhaps I might get something out
of him.
"I hunted him up. He was a typical showman. Big fellow, large as a
Noah's ark, dressed like a sunset, and loud as an eighteen-inch gun."
"I saw the fellow in Soldier Butte the other day. He was talking to
Wiley Creviss in the bank," said Ted. "You've described him more
picturesquely than I should, but I'm convinced he's the same man."
"I asked him what he had, and he told me he could furnish me on short
notice anything from a three-ring circus to a hand organ and monkey,"
continued Ben. "I told him how much money I wanted to spend, and he said
he'd fix me up a show that would make everybody delighted, and I told
him to go ahead. The show blew in to-night, and ran up their tents down
near the corral."
"How many have you got in it?"
"I've got a balloon ascension for the afternoon, a giant and a midget, a
magician, an Egyptian fortune teller, a trick mule, a Circassian beauty,
and a strong man." Ben looked around proudly, and the boys burst into
peals of laughter.
"Have you scraped the mold off of them yet?" asked Kit.
"How's that?" asked Ben haughtily.
"Have you pulled the burs off the chestnuts?"
"See here, what do you mean? Are you casting aspersions on my show?"
"Not exactly, but I think you've been stung by some old stranded side
show that was taking the tie route back home. Circassian beaut! Ho-ho,
likewise ha-ha! and some more."
"Ter say nothin' o' a Egyptian fortune teller from Popodunk, Ioway, an'
a wild man from ther Quaker village. Oh! give me ther smellin' salts.
I'm goin' ter hev ther histrikes," laughed Bud.
"Haf you not got a echukated vooly pig und a feller vot 'eats 'em
alife'?" asked Carl.
"That's right, Dutchy. It's a bum show what ain't got them," laughed
Bud.
The boys were laughing until the house rang with it, and Stella poked
her pretty head out of the door to ask to be told the joke. Bud
complied, with many humorous embellishments.
"Don't pay any attention to them, Ben," said Stella sympathetically,
"I'll take in the show from start to finish."
"Could friendship go any farther than that?" asked Kit pathetically.
"Oh, you fellows give me a pain," said Ben, rising and stalking off to
bed.
He was soon followed by the others, Ted and Kit remaining behind to
gather up the money and slip rubber bands around each of the packages of
currency.
"We ought to have a safe in the house, Ted," said Kit, looking over the
pile of money. "We often have large sums of money in the house, and some
time we might get robbed."
"There's not much danger of that, Kit," answered Ted. "There are not
many fellows who would have the nerve to come into this house. Too many
guns, and too many fellows who are not afraid to shoot them. I'm not
afraid."
"What was that?"
Kit was staring at the rear window.
"What?"
"I just looked up and thought I saw a face at the window."
"You're getting imaginative."
Just then the clock struck twelve.
"No, I don't think so. I heard a slight cracking noise and looked up.
Something white appeared at the window for an instant. It looked like
the face of a child."
"Nonsense. A child couldn't look through that window. It's seven feet
from the ground."
"Well, I suppose I was mistaken. Let's hide that money and go to bed."
"Where shall we put it?"
Kit looked around the room, then smiled.
"Why, in the cubby-hole, of course. There's a safe for you. We haven't
used it for so long that I'd almost forgotten it."
"The very thing. Nobody'd find it there in a blue moon."
They crossed over to a corner of the room and threw back the corner of a
rug. Where the baseboard was mortised at the corner there appeared to
have been a patch put in. Ted placed his hand against this, near the
top, and it tipped back. It was hung on a pivot, and, as its top went in
and the bottom came out, there was revealed a boxlike receptacle about
two feet long and six inches deep.
"This is a bully place," said Ted, placing the packages of money within
it. "It is known to only five of us, and I'll bet that most of us have
forgotten its very existence."
The board was turned back into place and the rug spread out again.
"Safe as in the Strongburg Bank," said Kit. "Well, me for the feathers.
We're going to be kept humping to-morrow. _Buenas noches_."
In a few minutes the big ranch house was dark and quiet; every person
in it was sound asleep.
Ted Strong had sunk into a deep and untroubled sleep, for his day had
been very active, and he was tired when he lay down.
But he had not been sleeping more than a half hour when he found himself
sitting straight up in bed, very wide-awake, and wondering why.
"Something wrong in the house," he muttered to himself.
He sniffed the air to discover the smell of smoke. But it was not that.
Had he locked up? He went over his actions just before retiring, and was
sure that he had attended faithfully to everything.
The money! The thought came to him like a blow.
Something had happened to the money.
He was out of bed in a jiffy and slipped into his trousers, and,
grabbing his revolver from beneath his pillow, he opened the door and
walked softly along the hall in his bare feet.
The hall opened into the living room through an arch in which a
portière, made of small pieces of bamboo strung together, was hung.
As he looked cautiously into the living room his elbow struck this, and
it rattled sharply in the stillness.
He had heard a faint creak, and, as he peeped around the corner of the
arch, he saw dimly the figure of a man near the door, evidently just in
the act of opening it.
With a succession of noiseless leaps Ted was across the room, and
arrived at the door just as it swung open and the man was about to
depart.
But Ted was upon his back with the swiftness of a bobcat, and they came
together to the floor with? a crash.
The burglar was beneath, but this did not prevent him from fighting
with a desperation that lent strength to his already strong and lithe
body.
He was slenderer and younger than Ted, who could feel it in the fellow's
build as they struggled.
"Let me out, or I'll kill you," said the burglar, and Ted saw the flash
of a knife.
At the same moment something rushed past them in the dark, and out of
the door.
As Ted saw it dimly it was small, and its motions were awkward and
lumbering. He thought it was a dog, and was about to raise his revolver
to fire at it when he thought better of it, as he did not want to arouse
the household if he could conquer his man without making a noise.
"Don't shoot," said the man, who had observed Ted's motion with the gun.
At this extraordinary request Ted paused.
He had twisted the man's wrist until he dropped the knife, and then
shoved it beyond reach with the muzzle of his revolver.
His strong left hand was in the nape of the fellow's neck, and Ted had
his nose ground into the rug. He had found a gun in the fellow's hip
pocket, and relieved him of it.
Then Ted rose, and told his captive to get up
Slowly he did so, and Ted made him move to the center of the room.
Bud's golden head appeared around the corner of the doorway.
Ted could just distinguish it.
"Who's that?" asked Bud.
"It's Ted. Come in and strike a light. I've caught something."
In a moment a light flared up.
"Jack Farley!" exclaimed Ted, in astonishment.
"Yes, blast you, Jack Farley," replied the youth.
"Couldn't keep away, eh?"
"A feller'd think thet once was enough," said Bud.
"I couldn't help myself. I had to come," growled Farley.
"Well, this time you'll stay. You shan't abuse our hospitality again.
Bud, get a rope and tie our friend. He's skittish, and is likely to run
away if he's turned loose."
Farley was soon tied securely.
"Keep an eye on him, Bud," said Ted. "I want to look over the premises."
Ted went directly to the corner and pushed back the pivot door, struck a
match, and looked into the box.
It was empty.
Then, turning back to Farley, he searched him thoroughly.
There was no money in his pockets.
Ted called up Kit, and the three of them ransacked the living room
thoroughly, but not a dollar could be found. "What did you do with the
money you stole from that hole?" said Ted, gazing fiercely into Farley's
eyes.
"I haven't seen a dollar of it," was the reply.