A SOLEMN MOMENT
The dance of the performing monkey had ceased and its owner changed the
tune on the piano-organ again. He handed the monkey a little toy gun
with one hand while he still turned the crank with the other. The monkey
threw the gun down petulantly at first, but Tony threatened him and
finally the animal held it when it was thrust into his hands.
"That monk certainly does understand Italian," admitted Lance. "I bet
they are related."
"Lance is 'sore' on the Italian because he thinks Laura admires Tony,"
chuckled Chet.
"Be still!" commanded Laura. "You had better be nice to us girls or we
won't keep the secret of how you boys took an involuntary bath to-day."
"'Nuff said," growled Chet. "I'm dumb."
The monkey was changing the gun from hand to shoulder, and holding it in
different positions supposedly in imitation of a soldier's drill. But
some of the audience laughed at its awkwardness.
"The Italian army must drill differently from ours," said Dora Lockwood.
"Did you ever see anything so funny?" laughed her twin.
Tony overheard them and his eyes flashed. He boxed the poor monkey on
the side of the head, and it ran chattering to the end of its line.
"Aw, say!" exclaimed the good natured Lance. "Isn't that mean?"
"It's not a very smart monkey at that," said a man in the crowd.
"Hi!" exclaimed Tony, suddenly, "you think-a da monk can't do anything?
He don't lik-a da silly treek--eh? Look now! I lock de door--so," and
suiting his action to his words the Italian turned the big brass key in
the lock of the booth door. He shook the door to show that it was
fastened. Then he turned to the monkey again. "Bebe!" he commanded,
harshly, pointing to the door, and rattled off some command in his own
language which the audience did not understand. But the monkey seemed to
understand it.
He looked at his master, ran to the end of his line, looked back at
Tony, chattered, and then seized the big key. He turned it carefully,
still looking over his shoulder at Tony, who appeared not to notice him,
and ground the organ furiously.
The lock must have been well oiled, for the monkey turned the key very
easily. Then he turned the knob of the door quite as carefully, all the
time appearing to be afraid that he would be caught at it. For the first
time the monkey actually betrayed some ability as an actor.
He pushed open the door, still keeping a sharp watch upon his master.
Slowly he wedged his way into the booth. In a moment he had snatched
something from the table inside and was back again upon the platform,
with his mouth full, and munching rapidly, with his face hidden from his
master.
The crowd laughed and applauded. Tony considered this a good time to
take up the collection and he gave the monkey his cup. The little fellow
made a polite bow to every person who dropped anything into the cup. At
those who did not contribute Bebe chattered angrily.
"He's just as cunning as he can be," said Dorothy, as they turned away.
"But I don't believe that man treats the monkey kindly."
"Here comes the boat!" exclaimed Chet. "We've got to leave you, girls.
Don't get into any trouble, now, paddling home."
"Don't you fear for us," returned Dora, confidently.
"Let's race back to Centerport!" proposed Jess.
"No," said Laura, as the girls tripped down to the landing where they
had left their canoes. "It is too far and Mrs. Case warns us not to
over-exert, paddling."
"She's a fuss-budget," declared Jess, pouting.
"She's the best physical instructor in Centerport, and we're lucky to
have her at Central High," said Dorothy, loyally.
"We're supposed to be in training for the boat races, too," said Dora.
The girls got aboard nicely and started across the lake. It was a calm
day and there were scarcely any ripples; therefore there was little
likelihood of the girls getting into any trouble. Half way across they
saw a second motor-boat towing the burned _Duchess_ toward the city. The
fire was out, but the girls saw that poor Purt would have to spend some
of his money in repairing the craft.
The four girls reached the school boathouse and had their canoes drawn
out and put carefully away. Then they separated, for the Lockwood twins
did not live on the same street as Laura and her chum.
The Lockwood cottage was set in a rather large plot of ground, which was
mostly given up to Mr. Lockwood's nursery and hot-houses. The twins'
father was wrapped up in his horticultural experiments, and as they had
no mother the two girls were left much to their own devices. Mrs. Betsey
Spink kept house for the Lockwoods, and had been the twins' nurse when
they were little. She was a gentle, unassuming old lady, who "mothered"
the girls as best she knew how, and shielded absent-minded Mr. Lockwood
from all domestic troubles. The neighbors declared that the Lockwood
household would have been a very shiftless establishment had it not been
for Mrs. Betsey.
Mr. Lockwood seldom knew how the bills were paid, what the girls wore,
or how the house was run. His mind was given wholly to inventing new
forms of plant life. He experimented with white blackberries, thornless
roses, dwarf trees that bore several kinds of fruit on different limbs,
and, of late, had tried to cultivate a seedless watermelon. He was
always expecting to make a fortune out of some of his novel experiments;
but as yet the fortune had not materialized.
But he was a most lovable gentleman, and the twins were as proud of him
as though he was the most successful man in Centerport. Mr. Lockwood had
one cross to bear, however--a thorn in the flesh which troubled him on
occasion very much. This was a certain very practical sister--the twins'
Aunt Dora. Fortunately Aunt Dora lived in another city; but she was apt
to make unexpected visits to her brother, and when she came to the
Lockwood house there was no peace for any of the inmates while she
stayed.
As the twins on this occasion entered the premises by the back gate they
saw certain windows on the second floor of the house wide open, and the
curtains drawn back. They halted in something more than astonishment,
and looked at each other solemnly.
"That's Aunt Dora's room!" gasped Dora.
"She's here!" returned Dorothy, in the same awe-struck voice.
"Oh, dear!" sighed her twin.
"_Now_ we're in for it," rejoined Dorothy.
Then both together they exclaimed: "Poor papa!"
It was a solemn moment for the whole household, and the twins felt it.