A PROFITABLE BACK YARD
"Oh, my s-s-stars!"
That was the extent of Toby's utterance for the moment, as he remained
crouched under the window, and watched that wonderful thing that had
come to pass in a single night, just as though he might be living in the
times of the "Arabian Nights," when magic was in vogue.
"W-w-where am I at?" he presently breathed. "W-w-what does it all
m-m-mean? Has the w-w-world really turned upside d-d-down? Am I in
Africa, or is this s-s-still p-p-plain old Carson, and I'm j-j-just
seein' things?"
Just then the swinging trunk of the largest elephant was curled over the
rim of the trough where running water passed day and night, coming
through a long pipe from a distant spring; there was a strange sucking
sound, then the trunk was turned upward, and a spray of water went
sizzling over the great broad back of the animal.
Toby stirred himself. He could see that the camels were chewing their
cud, and the ostrich pluming its ruffled feathers, while the baby
elephant nosed around as though in search of breakfast. Then even the
skulking tawny figure that was partly hidden under the cage containing
his wildcat moved; and he could make out the hitherto defiant inmate
trying to cower against the back of the refuge as though frightened by
the nearness of the king of the African jungle, the lion.
"By jinks! mebbe the circus was busted in the storm, and all the wild
animals got loose!"
Why, Toby was so startled by this sudden thought, that he even neglected
his customary stutter. Bandy-legs would have been quick to draw
attention to this remarkable fact, had he been present to notice it, as
he invariably did.
The more Toby allowed this idea to sink into his brain the stronger grew
his conviction that he had really hit upon the truth. What tickled Toby
most of all was the fact that the escaped animals should select _his_
back yard above all other places of refuge in the good old town of
Carson.
Perhaps it had happened that the gate blew open in the storm, having
been insecurely fastened; and that somehow the first animal may have
been attracted by the very odor of which his mother was beginning to
complain, and which is always present where wild animals are kept, such
as his wildcat, 'coon and fox.
Toby, however, always insisted that it must have been some instinct that
caused elephants, dromedaries, ostrich, zebra and even the toothless old
performing lion, Nero, to camp in his back yard in preference to any
other harbor of refuge.
"Sure they knew a friend when they wanted to get in out of the wet,
didn't they?" he would argue, with many a twist and turn to his speech;
"animals are wise to the fact that a _few_ people care for them, and I'm
one of that select bunch. And you can believe that I'll always take it
as one of the greatest compliments ever paid to me that they picked out
the Jucklin yard to camp in!"
But Toby was not saying anything like this just at present. He knew that
some energetic action must be taken in order to notify the owners of the
wrecked circus where they could find a big part of their stray stock.
He tore downstairs in a great hurry, though very careful at the same
time to close the shutters of his window again; for it gave him a cold
chill to imagine that great yellow-maned lion scrambling up the
grape-arbor near by, and finding entrance to his sleeping apartment.
Toby liked wild animals all right, but he was not hankering after having
them quite as close as that.
It was a quiet Sunday morning. Later on the church bells would begin to
jangle and ring, but at that early hour not a sound seemed to make
itself heard.
Straight to the telephone rushed Toby, and as soon as he could get
Central he begged to be connected with the office of the Chief of
Police.
Now Toby hardly expected that the brave defenders of Carson would march
up to the Jucklin domicile, and arrest those elephants, dromedaries,
zebra, ostrich and last but not least the terrible king of the dark
African jungle, as Nero was described on the posters that decorated all
the bill boards in town. But when citizens were in any sort of trouble
it was only right they should put it up to the police. What were those
men paid for, but to shoulder all the burdens that might arise, and find
a solution to mysteries? Why, they would not earn their salt unless
people found something for them to do once in a while; because Carson
most of the time was as sleepy and peaceable as any town could be.
"Hello! hello!" said a voice over the wire.
"That you, C-c-chief?"
"It certainly is; what can I do for you this morning?" came the voice.
"This is T-t-toby J-j-jucklin s-s-speaking to you!"
"I see it is," replied the official, who knew Toby very well, and
doubtless his stuttering also. "Well, what's happened this Sunday, Toby?
Storm knock a chimney down at your place? It would only make six I've
heard from, not to speak of the church spire being out of plumb again."
"D-d-did the circus g-g-get to town last night, C-c-chief!"
"Did it? Well, I should say yes. There's the dickens to pay, and I guess
most of the churches'll have thin audiences this morning, when the news
leaks out, Toby."
"Y-y-you mean the animals escaped, d-d-don't you, Chief?"
"They surely did," came the reply over the wire. "Wind blew the
round-top down, upset some of the cages, and made such a big panic that
all the live stock that could get a move on took French leave. Right now
the whole outfit is scouring the roads for ten miles around, but I
haven't heard that they've run across anything yet. The whole country
will be just plumb crazy when it gets known."
"W-w-what was it g-g-got away, Chief; w-w-would you mind tellin' me?"
"Certainly not, Toby; you know I'd do a heap to oblige you," the head of
Carson's police force went on to say, for Mr. Jucklin had considerable
influence in politics, and the Chief knew which side of his bread was
buttered, as well as any one could. "Let's see, I heard it over the
wire, and Mr. Jenks was all broke up over the catastrophe, so he mixed
things up some; but I remember he said all the camels and the elephants
had lit out, ditto their trained ostrich that draws a cart around the
ring like a hoss; and there was some monkeys that broke loose too, yes,
and now I think of it he did mention a striped animal which he called
the zebra; and I think he said a lot of lions and tigers, and also a few
others I can't recall for the moment!"
"Well, part of the lot are camped right now in our back yard!" said
Toby, filled with such a sense of importance that he neglected to
stumble over a single word of this sentence.
Evidently the man in blue uniform at the other end of the wire was
staggered by this unexpected communication.
"What's that, Toby?" he exclaimed; "you wouldn't try to deceive me, I
hope? Sure you haven't been dreaming, and seeing things? I know you're
fond of wild animals, and have got a little collection yourself; but
explain some more. I wouldn't want to get hold of Mr. Jenks, the circus
man, and then have him disappointed."
"Oh! no danger of that," sang out Toby, jubilantly; "let's s-s-see,
there's one l-lion, three elephants, three double-humped c-c-camels, an
ostrich, and the zebra there right now, 'cause I s-s-saw the whole lot.
D-d-don't know how m-m-many more might be around on the other s-s-side
of the house. Seems like they j-j-just took to the Jucklin ranch.
K-k-knew a good thing when they saw it. Will you notify this M-m-mister
Jenks, or shall I?"
"Why, he's right across the square now, getting some breakfast, and I
can run over to tell him, Toby, thank you."
"H-h-hold on, Chief!"
"What else is there, Toby?"
"D-d-do you know if he's been offerin' any s-s-sort of reward for the
recovery of his l-l-lost animals?" asked the boy, eagerly.
"Why, I did hear him say he'd be only too glad to make it worth
anybody's time who brought him information that would lead to the
recovery of his property. And I'll see what I can do for you, Toby. It
ought to be worth fifty dollars to you, that's right. But don't detain
me any longer, because he might get away. He's got a car at the door of
the hotel waiting for him. See you later, Toby, and thank you for
calling me up."
Toby puzzled a little over this last remark. He finally grinned, and
concluded that possibly there might be something in it for the genial
Chief also, which was why he declared himself as indebted to the boy who
brought the information.
Toby's next move was to hurry down to the kitchen to warn the cook not
to poke her head out of doors on penalty of receiving a shock. He was
just a few seconds too late to prevent this, however, for just as he
reached the kitchen, and discovered the back door open, a figure came
tearing through like mad. It was the black cook, Sallie Marie, and the
whites of her eyes were showing as she slammed that door shut and then
fell back in a big chair, almost fainting.
"Don't yuh go out dar, chile!" she whimpered, as she thought she saw
Toby making for the door; and so he was, but only to turn the key in the
lock, as though fearful that some cunning and aggressive animal might
manage to open it; "de Noah's ark am drapped down on top of dis wicked
town durin' de night, an' der's de animiles awalkin' 'round our garden
two by two, de elephants an' de camels an' de lions. Oh! what-ebber am
we agwine to do, chile? Does yuh think I's on'y makin' b'lieve, or dat I
done got de fever? Jest look fo' yo'self out o' de window, an' see all
dem awful t'ings out dere. I done spect yuh got all de menagerie yuh
wants dis time, an' dat's a fack!"
Toby hastened to explain what had happened, and that the animals she saw
belonged to the menagerie connected with the circus that was passing
Sunday in Carson, meaning to give a parade Monday morning, to be
followed by two performances later in the day and evening.
Then he hastened upstairs again to tell the rest of the folks; and for
some time every one in the Jucklin house had his or her face glued to a
window pane, watching the remarkable sight to be seen in their plain
back yard, which for the time being seemed to have been transported to
the heart of Africa.
Then the first detachment of the circus people hove in sight, and there
were witnessed some of the strangest things that ever came to pass on
the quiet of a Sunday morning in old Carson, since the days of the war,
half a century before.
Men led elephants away; others came with the two-humped dromedaries, and
after them the striped zebra trotted, showing something like temper
because his spell of liberty had been so short.
Then came the ostrich, with its master leading it by a rope, and warning
the curious spectators to keep away from its feet because it could kick
forward like a football punter, and with disastrous results.
Last of all a cage was brought to hold the lion that was at large; and
while the men, armed with sticks and pistols, the latter being
discharged frequently so as to inspire old Nero with alarm, drove the
beast toward the open door of the wagon, the spectators peeped from
behind corners and other places of refuge, ready to run madly if there
seemed any chance of his turning toward them.
In the end all the animals that had gathered so strangely in the Jucklin
yard were taken away. Toby had thought to call up his chums on the
'phone early in the affair, so that not only Max, but Steve and
Bandy-legs were on the spot, to gape, and see all that went on, enjoying
it immensely too.
That was a Sunday never to be forgotten in the annals of Carson. The
news went around, and many timid people remained shut up in their houses
the livelong day, not daring to venture out for fear lest they be
pounced upon by a striped tiger, a yellow-maned lion, a man-eating
panther, or some inferior beast like a common wolf, hyena or jackal.
The boys of the town were wild with excitement, and all day long a crowd
gathered about the round-top, which had been repaired and hoisted. These
circus men are able to meet sudden emergencies. They know what it is to
grapple with difficulties that come unannounced; and it is all in a
day's work with them.
Some mended torn canvas; others looked after the animals, while fresh
lots continued to scour the adjacent country, searching for such animals
as had not been accounted for in the collection found in the Jucklin
back yard.
It was the biggest advertisement the show could possibly have had, and
the enterprising owner saw his opportunity to get out fresh bills,
telling about the havoc of the storm, and announcing that these beasts
of prey that had been at liberty were now all safely secured
again--which Toby and his chums knew was a barefaced lie, for the men
were still hunting along all the roads and the woods within ten miles of
town--and "could be seen in the wonderful menagerie that formed a part
of the grand aggregation," and so the announcement ran on, after the
customary flamboyant manner of circus posters in general.
Toby had a little streak of business about him, and some time during the
day he managed to interview Mr. Jenks, informing him that he was the boy
who had been the means of sending information in first about the missing
animals, and that it was his amateur menagerie in the back yard that had
baited them.
So what did Mr. Jenks do but place fifty dollars in his hand, and thank
him in the bargain. Toby was quite satisfied, but he could not help
wondering what the Chief got out of it; though he never knew.
Of course he was also told that he could attend both performances, and
fetch a dozen friends along with him in the bargain, a privilege Toby
was pretty certain he would avail himself of, for he was a real boy, and
as we know, loved animals far beyond the average of his class.
There was a tremendous outpouring of people on the following day and
evening; for never had a show been better advertised than that of Mr.
Jenks. Some people even hinted that the escape of the wild beasts had
really been a shrewd dodge whereby a novel feature could be introduced
into advertising practices; but others scoffed the idea, and pointed to
the fact that even through Monday squads of the trainers and canvasmen
continued to patrol the highways and byways around Carson as though all
of the wild beasts could not have been recovered in that raid on the
Jucklins' back yard.