THE CANVAS MAN.
When Mr. Tarbox came to understand how he had been hoaxed by the boys
he was furious, but his anger was ineffectual, for there seemed no way
in which he could retaliate. He had had his opportunity in the woods,
but that had passed, and was not likely to come again. Meanwhile he
found it hard to bear the jocose inquiries of his neighbors touching
his encounter with the "tiger."
For instance, the next day he met the constable in the street.
"How are you, Mr. Tarbox?" inquired Spriggins, smiling.
"Well enough," growled Tarbox, quickening his pace.
"I hear you had an adventure with a tiger yesterday," said the
constable, with a waggish smile.
"Suppose I did!" he snapped.
"Ho, ho! Were you very much frightened?" continued the constable.
"I wasn't half so much scared as you were when I wanted you to arrest
the giant."
It was the constable's turn to look embarrassed. "Who said I was
afraid?"
"It was enough to look at you," said Tarbox.
"Well, maybe I was a little flustered," admitted Spriggins. "Who
wouldn't be afraid of a man ten feet high? They do say, Tarbox, that
you did some pretty tall running, and there wasn't no tiger loose after
all."
And Mr. Constable indulged in a chuckle which irritated the farmer
intensely. He resolved to retaliate.
"Do you know where I am goin', Spriggins?" he asked.
"No."
"Then I'll tell you," answered Tarbox, with a malicious smile. "I'm
goin' to Squire Price to get another warrant for the arrest of
Anak—I've found out that that's his name—and I'm goin' to get you to
serve it."
The constable's countenance changed. "Don't be foolish, Mr. Tarbox," he
said.
"I understand my business, Spriggins, and I shall expect you to do
yours. I'll see you again in half an hour."
"I may not be at home; I expect I've got to go over to Medville."
"Then put it off. Your duty to the State is ahead of all private
business."
He went on his way leaving Mr. Spriggins in a very uneasy frame of
mind. When he went home to supper, he said to his wife: "Mrs. S., after
supper I'm going up into the attic, and if Nathan Tarbox comes round
and asks for me, you say that I'm out of town."
"But it wouldn't be true, Spriggins," replied his wife.
"I know it won't; but he wants me to arrest the giant, and it's as much
as my life is worth," answered the constable, desperately. "I don't
think I'm a coward, but I ain't a match for a giant."
The farmer, however, did not come round. He had only made the statement
to frighten Spriggins, and retaliate upon him for his joke about the
tiger.
In the afternoon Robert, while out for a walk, fell in with one
of the canvas men, a rough-looking fellow, named, or at least he
called himself, Carden. Canvas men, as may be inferred from the name,
are employed in putting up and taking down the circus tent, and
are generally an inferior set of men, not differing much from the
professional tramp. Robert, who, in spite of his asseverations, had
considerable self-respect and proper pride, never mingled much with
them, and for that reason was looked upon as "putting on airs." His
friend, Charlie Davis, was much more popular with them.
"Hallo, Robert," said Carden, familiarly.
The canvas man was smoking a short, dirty clay pipe, and would have
made an admirable model for a picture of a tramp.
"Hello, Carden!" said Robert, coolly.
"Walkin' for your health?" asked the canvas man, in the same
disagreeably familiar tone.
"Partly."
Carden was walking by his side, and Robert did not like the familiarity
which this would seem to imply.
"Pretty good town, this!" continued Carden, socially.
"Yes."
"Sorry I haven't another pipe to offer you, Robert, my boy."
"Thank you; I shouldn't use it."
"Don't mean to say you don't smoke, eh, Bob?"
"I don't smoke."
"That is, not a pipe—I dare say you wouldn't mind a cigar or
cigarette, now."
"I don't smoke at all now. I did once, but found it was injuring me,
and gave it up."
"Oh, it won't hurt you. I've smoked since I was a chap so
high"—indicating a point about three feet from the ground—"and I
ain't dead yet."
Robert did not reply to this, but looked around anxiously for some
pretext to leave his unwelcome companion.
Just then they passed a wayside saloon.
"Come in, Bob, and have a drink!" said Carden, laying his hand upon the
boy's shoulder. "It'll do you good to whet your whistle."
"No, thank you," said Robert, shrinking from the man's touch.
"Oh, don't be foolish. A little whiskey'll do you good."
"Thank you, I would rather not."
Meantime Carden was searching in his pocket for a silver coin, but his
search was fruitless.
"I say, Bob, I am out of tin. Come in and treat?"
"You must excuse me, Mr. Carden," said Robert, coldly.
"Come, don't be stingy! You get good pay, and can afford to stand
treat. We poor canvas men only have $15 a month."
"If this will do you any good," said Robert, producing a silver
quarter, "you are welcome to it."
"Thank you; you'd better come in, too."
Robert sacrificed the coin to regain his freedom, as Carden's entering
the saloon seemed to offer the only mode of release.
"What a stuck-up young jackanapes!" muttered Carden, as he entered the
saloon. "He thinks a deal of himself, and don't want to have nought to
do with me because I'm a poor canvas man. I doubt he's got a good deal
of money hid away somewhere, for he don't spend much. I heard Charlie
Davis say the other day Bob had $200."
Carden's eyes glittered with cupidity as the thought passed through his
mind.
"I'd like to get hold of it," he muttered to himself. "It would be a
fortune for a poor canvas man, and he wouldn't miss it, for he could
soon gain as much more. I wonder where he keeps it."
"It's the worst of the life I lead," said Robert to himself, as he
walked on, "that I am thrown into the company of such men as that. It
isn't because they are poor that I object to them, for I am not rich
myself; but a man needn't be low because he is poor and earning small
pay. I suppose Carden and the other canvas men think I am proud because
I don't seek their company, but they are mistaken. I have nothing in
common with them, except that we are all in the employ of the same
manager. Besides, I do talk with Madigan. He is a canvas man, but he
has had a good education and is fitted for something better, and only
takes up with this rather than be idle."
Half an hour after, Charlie Davis joined him.
"Rob," said Charlie, "I met Carden, just now. He was half drunk, and
pitching into you."
"He ought not, for I had just lent him a quarter."
"He said you were too proud to drink with him."
"That is true, though I wouldn't drink with one I had more respect for."
"He asked me where you kept your money. You'd better look out for him."
"I shall. I have no doubt he is capable of robbing me, and I would
rather spend my own money myself."
"I'm not afraid of his robbing me," said Charlie.
"No, I suppose not; but I wish you would save some of your money, so as
to have something worth stealing."
"Oh, I'll begin to save sometime."
It was perhaps the thought of this conversation that led Robert in the
evening after the entertainment was over, or rather after his part of
it was over, to walk round to one of the circus wagons, in which, in a
small closet, he kept some of his clothing and the whole of his money.
As he came up he saw in the darkness the crouching figure of a man
trying the lock of his compartment with one of a bunch of keys he held
in his hand.