SCALAWAG GETS A NEW HOME
A dog barking aroused Sammy. He must, after all, have fallen into a
light doze. With Dot sleeping contentedly on the bag of potatoes and his
coat, and the only nearby sounds the rustling noise that he had finally
become scornful of, the boy could not be greatly blamed for losing
himself in sleep.
But he thought the dog barking must be either his Buster or old Tom
Jonah, the Corner House girls' dog. Were they coming to search for him
and Dot?
"Oh, wake up, Dot! Wake up!" cried Sammy, shaking the little girl.
"There's something doing."
"I wish you wouldn't, Tess," complained the smallest Corner House girl.
"I don't want to get up so early. I--I've just come asleep," and she
would have settled her cheek again into Sammy's jacket had the boy not
shaken her.
"Oh, Dot! Wake up!" urged the boy, now desperately frightened.
"There's--there's smoke."
"Oo-ee!" gasped Dot, sitting up. "What's happened? Is the chimney
leaking?"
"There's something afire. Hear that pounding! And the dog!"
It was the desperate kicking of the mules, John and Jerry, they heard.
And the kicking and the barking of Beauty, the hound, continued until
the Corner House automobile, with the bucket brigade aboard, roared down
to the canalboat and stopped.
The fire was under great headway, and every person in the party helped
to quench it. The girls, as well as the men and boys, rushed to the
work. To see the old boat burn when it was the whole living of the
Quiggs, gained the sympathy of all.
Neale leaped right down into the water and filled buckets and handed
them up as fast as possible. Luke and the girls carried the full pails
and either threw the contents on the flames or set the pails down for
Mr. Sorber to handle.
The ringmaster was in his element, for he loved to direct. His shouted
commands would have made an impression upon an organized fire
department. And he let it be known, in true showman's style, that the
Twomley & Sorber's Herculean Circus and Menagerie was doing all in its
power to put out the fire.
Cap'n Bill Quigg and Louise ran to loosen the mules. It was a wonder the
canalboat girl was not kicked to death she was so fearless. And the
mules by this time were wildly excited.
Fortunately the fire had burned an outlet through the roof of the cabin
and had not spread to the stable. But the heat was growing in intensity
and the smoke was blinding. Especially after Mr. Sorber began to throw
on water to smother the blaze.
The mules were released without either the girl or her father being
hurt. But John and Jerry could not be held. Immediately they tore away,
raced over the narrow gangplank, and started across somebody's ploughed
field at full gallop. They never had shown such speed since they had
become known on the towpath.
Then Louise and her father could help put out the fire. Cap'n Bill, as
well as the mules, actually showed some speed. He handed up buckets of
water with Neale, and amid the encouraging shouts of the crowd across
the canal, the fire was finally quenched. Mr. Sorber immediately seized
the occasion as a good showman, or "ballyhoo," should.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he shouted, standing at the rail and bowing,
flourishing his arm as though he were snapping the long whip lash he
took into the ring with him, "this little exciting episode--this
epicurean taste of the thrills to follow in the big tent--although of an
impromptu nature, merely goes to show the versatility of Twomley and
Sorber's Herculean Circus and Menagerie, and our ability, when the
unexpected happens, to grapple with circumstances and throw them,
sir--throw them! That is what we did in this present thrilling
happening. The fire is out. Every spark is smothered. The Fire Demon no
longer seeks to devour its prey. Ahem! Another and a more quenching
element has driven the Fire Demon back to its last spark and cinder--and
then quenched the spark and cinder! Now, ladies and gentlemen, having
viewed this entirely impromptu and nevertheless exciting manifestation
of Fire and Water, we hope that your attention will be recalled to the
glories of the Twomley and Sorber Herculean Circus and Menagerie. The
big show will begin in exactly twenty-two minutes, ladies and gentlemen.
At that time I shall be happy to see you all in your places in our
comfortable seats as I enter the ring for the grand entrance. I thank
you, one and all!"
He bowed gracefully and retired a step just as Cap'n Bill Quigg kicked
off the forward hatch-cover to let the smoke out of the hold. He let out
something else--and so surprised was the canalboatman, that he actually
sprang back.
Two childish voices were shouting as loud as possible: "Let us out! Oh,
let--us--o-o-out!"
"Come on, Dot!" Sammy Pinkney cried, seeing the opening above their
heads. "We can get out now."
"And we'll get right off this horrid boat, Sammy," declared Dot. "I
don't ever mean to go off and be pirates with you again--never. Me and
my Alice-doll don't like it at all."
[Illustration: "There was a rush for the open hatchway and a chorus of
excited voices"]
There was a rush for the open hatchway and a chorus of excited voices.
"Oh, Dot, Dot! Are you there, dear?" cried Ruth.
"You little plague, Sammy Pinkney!" gasped Agnes. "I've a mind to box
your ears for you!"
"Easy, easy," advised Neale, who was dripping wet from his waist down.
"Let us see if they are whole and hearty before we turn on the
punishment works. Give us your hands, Dottie."
He lifted the little girl, still hugging her Alice-doll, out of the hold
and kissed her himself before he put her into Ruth's arms.
"Come on up, now, Sammy, and take your medicine," Neale urged, stooping
over the hatchway.
"Huh! Don't you kiss _me_, Neale O'Neil," growled Sammy, trying to bring
the potatoes and the basket of fruit both up the ladder with him. "I'll
get slobbered over enough when I get home--first."
"And what second?" asked Luke, vastly amused as well as relieved.
But Sammy was silent on that score. Nor did he ever reveal to the Corner
House girls and their friends just what happened to him when he got back
to his own home.
Mr. Sorber was shaking hands with them all in congratulatory mood. Cap'n
Bill Quigg was lighting his pipe and settling down against the scorched
side of the cabin to smoke. Dot was passed around like a doll, from hand
to hand. Louise looked on in mild amazement.
"If I'd knowed that little girl was down in the hold, I sure would have
had her out," she said to Neale. "My! ain't she pretty. And what a
scrumptious doll!"
Dot saw the canalboat girl in her faded dress, and the lanky boatman,
and she had to express her curiosity.
"Oh, please!" she cried. "Are you and that man pirates, like Sammy and
me!"
"No," said Louise, wonderingly. "Pap's a Lutheran and I went to a
'piscopalean Sunday-school last winter."
The laugh raised by the excited party from the Corner House quenched any
further curiosity on Dot's part. And just here Mr. Sorber suggested a
most delightful thing.
"Now, Neale wants to come over to the dressing tent and put on something
dry," said the ringmaster. "And on the way you can stop at that house
yonder by the bridge and telephone home that you are all right and the
young'uns have been found. Then you'll all be my guests at Twomley and
Sorber's Herculean Circus and Menagerie. The big show will commence in
just fourteen minutes. Besides Scalawag wants to see his little
mistress."
"Who is Scalawag?" was the chorused question.
"That pony, Uncle Bill?" asked Neale.
"Oh!" gasped Sammy Pinkney, quite himself once more. "The calico pony
with pink on him! Je-ru-sa-_lem_!"
"Exactly," agreed Mr. Sorber, answering all the queries with one word.
Then he turned to little Louise Quigg, to add:
"That means you and your dad. You will be guests of the circus, too.
Come on, now, Neale, turn your car around and hurry. I'm due to get into
another ring suit-- I always keep a fresh one handy in case of
accident--and walk out before the audience in just--le's see--eleven
minutes, now!"
That was surely a busy eleven minutes for all concerned. The Quiggs had
to be urged a little to leave their canal boat again; but Beauty had
faithfully remained aboard, even if she had gone to sleep at her post;
so they shut her into the partly burned cabin to guard the few
possessions that remained to them.
"We never did have much, and we ain't likely to ever have much," said
the philosophical Louise. "We can bunk to-night in the hold, Pap. We
couldn't find John and Jerry till morning, anyway. We might's well
celebrate 'cause the old _Nancy Hanks_ didn't _all_ go up in smoke."
Luke telephoned the good news to the old Corner House that Dot and Sammy
were found, safe and sound, and that they were all going to the circus.
Poor Tess had to be satisfied with the promise that the long-expected
pony would be at Milton in a few days. News of the runaways' safety was
carried quickly to the Pinkney cottage across Willow Street.
"It strikes me that these kids are getting rewarded instead of punished
for running away," Luke observed to Ruth, when he returned from
telephoning.
"But what can we do?" the girl asked him. "I am so glad to get Dot back
that I could not possibly punish her. And I don't know that she did
anything so very wrong. Nor do I believe she will do anything like it
again."
"How about Sammy?" the collegian asked.
"To tell the truth," said honest Ruth, "from what they both say I fancy
Dot urged Sammy to run away. I can't blame him if I don't blame her, can
I?"
"They've got enough, I guess," chuckled Luke. "Two reformed pirates!
Goodness! aren't kids the greatest ever?"
The escapade of Sammy and Dot had carried its own punishment with it.
Ruth was right when she said that Dot would never yield to such a
temptation again. She had learned something about running away. As for
Sammy, he was more subdued than the Corner House girls had ever seen him
before.
That is, he was subdued until they were in what Mr. Sorber called "a
private box" at the ringside of the circus and things began to happen.
Then, what small boy could remain subdued with the joys and wonders of
a real circus evolving before his eyes?
If the tents were dusty and patched, and some of the costumes as frayed
and tarnished as they could be after two-thirds of a season's wear, all
the glamour of the famous entertainment was here--the smell of the
animals, the dancing dust in the lamplight, the flaring torches, the
blaring of the band, the distant roaring of the lions being fed for the
amusement of the spectators.
The grand entrance was a marvel to the children. The curveting horses,
the gaily decked chariots, the daring drivers in pink and blue tights
and the very pink-cheeked women in the wonderful, glittering
clothes--all these things delighted Sammy and Dot as well as Louise
Quigg, who had never in her cramped life seen such a show.
When Mr. Sorber entered in his fresh suit and cracked his whip, and the
band began to play, Louise became absorbed. When the clowns leaped into
the ring with a chorused: "Here we are again!" Dot and Sammy and Louise
clutched hands without knowing it, and just "held on" to themselves and
each other during most of the entertainment that followed.
But the greatest excitement for the smaller people in the private box
occurred toward the end of the evening when a squad of ponies came in to
do their tricks. There were black ponies and white, and dappled and red
ponies; but the prettiest of all (both Dot and the gasping Louise
declared it) was the brown and cream colored Scalawag, with the pink
nose and ears.
Sammy, feeling his superiority as a boy in most instances, even at the
circus, dropped every appearance of calm when Neale pointed out Scalawag
as the calico pony promised Tess and Dot by Uncle Bill Sorber.
"Oh, my granny!" gasped the youngster, his eyes fairly bulging, "you
don't mean that's the pony I thought was like a Teddy bear?"
"That's the one the girls are going to have for their very own. Uncle
Rufus has been building a stall in the far shed for it--next to Billy
Bumps," Neale assured him.
"And it _is_ chocolate and cream and _pink_!" exclaimed Sammy. He turned
suddenly to Agnes. "Oh, I say, Aggie!" he shouted. "You _did_ know all
about what a calico pony was like, didn't you?"
Agnes herself was delighted with the pretty creature. Of course, he was
awfully round and fat; but he appeared so funny and cute when he looked
out at the audience from under his braided bang, that Scalawag quite
endeared himself to all their hearts.
He was something of a clown in the troupe of ponies. He always started
last when an order was given and when he had anything to do by himself
he appeared "to really hate" to do it. Mr. Sorber seemed to get very
angry, and he lashed at the pony quite furiously and shouted at him, so
that the little girls squealed.
But the whiplash only wound about Scalawag's neck and did not hurt him,
while he put his head around and looked at the ringmaster when he
shouted, as though to ask Uncle Bill Sorber: "What's your hurry?"
"He's almost the oldest live thing in the show," chuckled Neale to Luke.
"I can remember him when I was a little fellow and was first taken into
the ring as the 'Infantile Wonder of the Ages'. I rode Scalawag. He was
so fat then that I couldn't have rolled off his back very easily.
"Nothing older with the show, I guess, except Monolith, the moth-eaten
old elephant, and the big tortoise in the sideshow. They say the
elephant's over a hundred, and some think the tortoise is two hundred
years old. So they go Scalawag a little better in age."
At the end of the pony act Mr. Sorber made Scalawag do something that
thrilled Dot so that she whispered to Agnes she thought she "_should_
faint!" The ringmaster led the old pony right over in front of the
private box, and while all the people looked on, he presented Scalawag
to Dot and her absent sister, whom Mr. Sorber spoke of as "T'ressa."
"Ladies and gentlemen, and all friends," began the ringmaster. "Twomley
and Sorber's Herculean Circus and Menagerie never does things by
halves. Even when we find ourselves obliged to get rid of one of our
faithful pufformers we make provision for that pufformer's happy old
age.
"Scalawag has always been a trial; but we have borne with him. We have
stood his tricks and his laziness for these many moons--many moons,
ladies and gentlemen. Now he is going to a good home for the rest of his
lazy life where all the work, privations, et cetera of circus life will
be but a memory in his equine mind. Scalawag! Salute your new mistress!"
The fat pony rose on his hind legs and pawed the air, seemingly looking
straight at Dot. It was then the smallest Corner House girl thought
surely she would faint.