MR. MURPHY TAKES A HAND
Agnes Kenway was pretty near at her wit's end. She did not know how to
hold Mr. Sorber, and she did not dare to let him go away from the house,
for he might meet Neale O'Neil on the road and take him right away from
Milton.
If Agnes could help it, she was determined that their friend Neale
should not be obliged to leave town just as he was getting on so well.
She wanted to consult Ruth. Ruth, she believed, would know just how to
handle this ticklish situation.
Just then Tess and Dot appeared, taking a walk through the yard with
their very best dolls. Naturally they were surprised to see Agnes
talking in the backyard with a strange man, and both stopped, curiously
eyeing Mr. Sorber. Dot's finger involuntarily sought the corner of her
mouth. _That_ was a trick that she seemed never to grow out of.
"Hello!" said Mr. Sorber, with rough joviality, "who are these little
dames? Goin' to say how-de-do to old Bill Sorber?"
Tess, the literal, came forward with her hand outstretched. "How do you
do, Mr. Sorber," she said.
Dot was a little bashful. But Agnes, having a brilliant idea, said:
"This is Neale's uncle, Dot. Mr. Sorber has come here to see him."
At that Dot came forward and put her morsel of hand into the showman's
enormous fist.
"You are very welcome, Neale's uncle," she said, bashfully. "We think
Neale is a very nice boy, and if we had a boy in our family we'd want
one just like Neale--wouldn't we, Tess?"
"Ye-es," grudgingly admitted the older girl. "If we _had_ to have a boy.
But, you know, Dot, we haven't _got_ to have one."
Mr. Sorber chuckled. "Don't you think boys are any good, little lady?"
he asked Tess.
"Not so very much," said the frank Tess. "Of course, Neale is different,
sir. He--he can harness Billy Bumps, and--and he can turn
cartwheels--and--and he can climb trees--and--and do lots of things
perfectly well. There aren't many boys like him."
"I guess there ain't," agreed Mr. Sorber. "And does he ever tell you how
he was took into the Lions' Den, like a little Dan'l, when he was two,
with spangled pants on him and a sugar lollypop to keep him quiet?"
"Mercy!" gasped Agnes.
"In a lions' den?" repeated Tess, while Dot's pretty eyes grew so round
they looked like gooseberries.
"Yes, Ma'am! I done it. And it made a hit. But the perlice stopped it.
Them perlice," said Mr. Sorber, confidentially, "are allus butting in
where they ain't wanted."
"Like Billy Bumps," murmured Dot.
But Tess had struck a new line of thought and she wanted to follow it
up. "Please, sir," she asked, "is that your business?"
"What's my business?"
"Going into lions' dens?"
"That's it. I'm a lion tamer, I am. And that's what I wanted to bring my
nevvy up to, only his mother kicked over the traces and wouldn't have
it."
"My!" murmured Tess. "It must be a very int'resting business. Do--do the
lions ever bite?"
"They chews their food reg'lar," said Mr. Sorber gravely, but his eyes
twinkled. "But none of 'em's ever tried to chew me. I reckon I look
purty tough to 'em."
"And Neale's been in a den of lions and never told us about it?" gasped
Agnes, in spite of herself carried away with the romantic side of the
show business again.
"Didn't he ever?"
"He never told us he was with a circus at all," confessed Agnes. "He was
afraid of being sent back, I suppose."
"And ain't he ever blowed about it to the boys?"
"Oh, no! He hasn't even told the school principal--or the man he lives
with--or Ruth--or _anybody_," declared Agnes.
Mr. Sorber looked really amazed. He mopped his bald crown again and the
color in his face deepened.
"Why, whizzle take me!" ejaculated the showman, in surprise, "he's
ashamed of us!"
Tess's kindly little heart came to the rescue immediately. "Oh, he
couldn't be ashamed of his uncle, sir," she said. "And Neale is, really,
a very nice boy. He would not be ashamed of any of his relations. No,
sir."
"Well, mebbe not," grumbled Mr. Sorber; "but it looks mightily like it."
Despite the roughness and uncouth manner of the man, the children "got
under his skin" as the saying is. Soon Tess and Dot bore the old showman
off to the summer-house to introduce him to their entire family.
At that moment Ruth arrived--to Agnes' vast relief.
"Oh, Ruthie!" the second Corner House girl gasped. "It's come!"
"What's come?" asked Ruth, in amazement.
"What Mr. Con Murphy said would happen some day. It's all out about
Neale----Poor Neale! The dam's busted!"
It was several minutes before Ruth could get any clear account from her
sister of what had happened. But when she _did_ finally get into the
story, Agnes told it lucidly--and she held Ruth's undivided attention,
the reader may be sure.
"Poor Neale indeed!" murmured Ruth.
"What can we do?" demanded Agnes.
"I don't know. But surely, there must be some way out. I--I'll telephone
to Mr. Howbridge."
"Oh, Ruthie! I never thought of that," squealed Agnes. "But suppose
Neale comes before you can get Mr. Howbridge here?"
Ruth put on her thinking cap. "I tell you," she said. "Introduce me to
Mr. Sorber. Get him to promise to stay to supper with Neale. That will
give us time."
This plot was carried out. Ruth saw Mr. Sorber, too, under a much more
favorable light. Dolls were much too tame for Dot and Tess, when they
realized that they had a real live lion tamer in their clutches. So they
had Mr. Sorber down on a seat in the corner of the summer-house, and he
was explaining to them just how the lions looked, and acted--even how
they roared.
"It's lots more int'resting than going to the circus to see them," Dot
said, reflectively. "For _then_ you're so scared of them that you can't
remember how they look. But Mr. Sorber is a perfectly _safe_ lion. He's
even got false teeth. He told us so."
Mr. Sorber could scarcely refuse Ruth's invitation. He was much
impressed by the appearance of the oldest Corner House girl.
"I reckon that rascally nevvy of mine has been playin' in great luck
since he run away from Twomley & Sorber's Herculean Circus and
Menagerie. Shouldn't blame him if he wanted to stay on. I'd wanter
myself. Pleased to meet you, Miss."
Ruth hurried to the nearest telephone and called up the lawyer's office.
She was not much surprised to find that he was not there, it being
Saturday afternoon.
So then she called up the house where he lived. After some trouble she
learned that her guardian had left town for over Sunday. She was told
where he had gone; but Ruth did not feel it would be right to disturb
him at a distance about Neale's affairs.
"Whom shall I turn to for help?" thought Ruth. "Who will advise us?
Above all, who will stop this man Sorber from taking Neale away?"
She had a reckless idea of trying to meet Neale on the road and warn
him. He could hide--until Mr. Howbridge got back, at least.
Perhaps she could catch Neale at the cobbler's house. And then, at
thought of the queer little old Irishman, all Ruth's worry seemed to
evaporate. Mr. Con Murphy was the man to attend to this matter. And to
the cobbler's little cottage she immediately made her way.
The story she told the little Irishman made him drop the shoe he was at
work upon and glare at her over his spectacles, and with his scant
reddish hair ruffled up. This, with his whiskers, made him look like a
wrathful cockatoo.
"Phat's that?" he cried, at last. "Take Neale O'Neil to a dirthy
circus-show and make him do thricks, like a thrained pig, or a goose, or
a--a--a naygur man from the Sahara Desert? NOT MUCH,SAYS CON!"
He leaped up and tore off his leather apron.
"The ormadhoun! I'd like a brush wid him, mesilf. Con Murphy takes a
hand in this game. We nade no lawyer-body--not yit. Lave it to me, Miss
Ruthie, acushla! Sure I'll invite mesilf to supper wid youse, too. I'll
come wid Neale, and he shall be prepared beforehand. Be sure he comes
here first. Never weep a tear, me dear. I'll fix thim circus people."
"Oh, Mr. Murphy! can you help us? Are you sure?" cried Ruth.
"Never fear! never fear!" returned the cobbler. "Lave it to me. Whin Con
Murphy takes a hand in any game, he knows what he's about. And there's
more than two sides to this mather, Miss Ruth. Belike thim fellers want
Neale for the money he makes for them. Hear me, now! Before I'd lit thim
take him back to that show, I'd spind ivry penny I've got buried in the
ould sock in--Well, niver mind where," concluded the excited cobbler.
But where was Ruth to find Neale O'Neil? That was the question that
faced the oldest Corner House girl as she turned away from the door of
the little cobbler's shop. She feared right now that the boy might have
returned to town and stopped at the Corner House to give the children a
ride before returning to the stable the horses he drove.
For Neale O'Neil was very fond of Tess and Dot and never missed a chance
of giving them pleasure. Although Ruth Kenway professed no high regard
for boys of any description--with Tess, she felt thankful there were
none "in the family"--she had to admit that the boy who had run away
from the circus was proving himself a good friend and companion.
Many of the good times the Corner House girls had enjoyed during the
fall and winter just past, would have been impossible without Neale's
assistance. He had been Agnes' and her own faithful cavalier at all
times and seasons. His secret--that which had borne so heavily upon his
heart--had sometimes made Ruth doubtful of him; but now that the truth
was out, he had only the girl's sympathy and full regard.
"He sha'n't go back!" she told herself, as she hurried around the corner
into Willow Street. "This horrid circus man shall not take him back. Oh!
if Mr. Murphy can only do all that he says he can--"
Her heart had fallen greatly, once she was out from under the magnetism
of the old cobbler's glistening eye. Mr. Sorber was such a big,
determined, red-faced man! How could the little cobbler overcome such an
opponent! He was another David against a monster Goliath.
And so Ruth's former idea returned to her. Neale must be stopped! He
must be warned before he returned from the drive he had taken into the
country, and before running right into the arms of his uncle.
This determination she arrived at before she reached the side gate of
the Old Corner House premises. She called Agnes, and left the two
younger children to play hostesses and amuse the guest.
"He mustn't suspect--he mustn't know," she whispered to Agnes,
hurriedly. "You go one way, Aggie, and I'll go the other. Neale must
return by either the Old Ridge Road or Ralph Avenue. Which one will you
take?"
Agnes was just as excited as her older sister. "I'll go up Ral-Ralph
Avenue, Ru-Ruth!" she gasped. "Oh! It will be dreadful if that awful
Sorber takes away our Neale----"
"He sha'n't!" declared the older girl, starting off at once for the Old
Ridge Road.
They had said nothing to Mrs. MacCall about the coming of Mr.
Sorber--not even to tell the good housekeeper of the Old Corner House
that she would have company at supper. But Mrs. MacCall found that out
herself.
Finding Tess and Dot remarkably quiet in the garden, and for a much
longer time than usual, Mrs. MacCall ventured forth to see what had
happened to the little girls. She came to the summer-house in time to
hear the following remarkable narrative:
"Why, ye see how it was, little ladies, ye see how it was. I saw the
folks in that town didn't like us--not a little bit. Some country folks
_don't_ like circus people."
"I wonder why?" asked Tess, breathlessly.
"Don't know, don't know," said Mr. Sorber. "Just born with a nateral
_hate_ for us, I guess. Anyway, I seen there was likely to be a big
clem--that's what we say for 'fight' in the show business--and I didn't
get far from the lions--no, ma'am!"
"Were you afraid some of the bad men might hurt your lions, sir?" asked
Dot, with anxiety.
"You can't never tell what a man that's mad is going to do," admitted
the old showman, seriously. "I wasn't going to take any chances with
'em. About a wild animal you can tell. But mad folks are different!
"So I kept near the lion den; and when the row broke out and the roughs
from the town began to fight our razorbacks--them's our pole- and
canvas-men," explained Mr. Sorber, parenthetically, "I popped me right
into the cage--yes, ma'am!
"Old Doublepaws and the Rajah was some nervous, and was traveling back
and forth before the bars. They was disturbed by the racket. But they
knowed me, and I felt a whole lot safer than I would have outside.
"'The show's a fake!' was what those roughs was crying. 'We want our
money back!' But that was a wicked story," added Mr. Sorber, earnestly.
"We was giving them a _big_ show for their money. We had a sacred cow, a
white elephant, and a Wild Man of Borneo that you couldn't have told
from the real thing--he was dumb, poor fellow, and so the sounds he made
when they prodded him sounded just as wild as wild could be!
"But you can't satisfy _some_ folks," declared Mr. Sorber, warmly. "And
there those roughs was shouting for their money. As I was telling you, I
doubled, selling tickets and putting the lions through their paces. I'd
taken the cashbox with me when I run for cover at the beginning of the
trouble, and I'd brought it into the lions' cage with me.
"Twomley tried to pacify the gang, but it was no use. They were going to
tear the big top down. That's the main tent, little ladies.
"So I knocks Old Doublepaws and Rajah aside--they was tame as kittens,
but roared awful savage when I hit 'em--and I sings out:
"'Here's your money, ladies and gentlemen. Them that wants theirs back
please enter the cage. One at a time, and no crowding, gents----' Haw!
haw! haw!" exploded the showman. "And how many do you suppose of them
farmers come after their money? Not one, little ladies! not one!"
"So the lions saved your money for you?" quoth Tess, agreeably. "That's
most int'resting--isn't it, Dot?"
"I--I wouldn't ever expect them to be so kind from the way they roar,"
announced the littlest Corner House girl, honestly. She had a vivid
remembrance of the big cats that she had seen in the circus the previous
summer.
"They're like folks--to a degree," said Mr. Sorber, soberly. "Some men
is all gruff and bluff, but tender at heart. So's--Why, how-d'ye-do,
ma'am!" he said, getting up and bowing to Mrs. MacCall, whom he just
saw. "I hope I see you well?"
The housekeeper was rather amazed--as well she might have been; but
Tess, who had a good, memory, introduced the old showman quite as a
matter of course.
"This is Neale's uncle, Mrs. MacCall," she said. "Neale doesn't know he
is here yet; but Ruthie has asked him to stay to supper----"
"With your permission, ma'am," said Mr. Sorber, with another flourish of
his hat.
"Oh, to be sure," agreed the housekeeper.
"And Neale runned away from a circus when he came here," said the
round-eyed Dot.
"No!" gasped the housekeeper.
"Yes, Mrs. MacCall," Tess hurried on to say. "And he used to be a clown,
and an acrobat, and----"
"And a lion in a Daniel's den!" interposed Dot, afraid that Tess would
tell it all. "Did you _ever_?"
And Mrs. MacCall was sure she never had!
Meanwhile Ruth and Agnes had run their separate ways. It was Agnes who
was fortunate in meeting the carriage driven by Neale O'Neil. The boy
was alone, and the moment he saw the panting girl he drew in his horses.
He knew something of moment had happened.
"What's brought you 'way out here, Aggie?" he demanded, turning the
wheel so that she might climb in beside him. His passengers had been
left in the country and he was to drive back for them late in the
evening.
"It--it's _you_, Neale!" burst out Agnes, almost crying.
"What's the matter with me?" demanded the boy, in wonder.
"What you've been expecting has happened. Oh dear, Neale! whatever shall
we do? Your Uncle Sorber's come for you."
The boy pulled in his team with a frightened jerk, and for a moment
Agnes thought he was going to jump from the carriage. She laid a hand
upon his arm.
"But we're not going to let him take you away, Neale! Oh, we won't! Ruth
says we must hide you--somewhere. She's gone out the Old Ridge Road to
meet you."
"She'll get lost out that way," said the boy, suddenly. "She's never
been over that way, has she?"
"Never mind--Ruth," Agnes said. "It's you we're thinking of----"
"We'll drive around and get Ruth," Neale said, decisively, and he began
to turn the horses.
"Oh, Neale!" groaned Agnes. "What an _awful_ man your uncle must be. He
says he used to put you in a cage full of lions----"
Neale O'Neil suddenly began to laugh. Agnes looked at him in surprise.
For a moment--as she told Ruth afterward--she was afraid that the shock
of what she had told him about Mr. Sorber's appearance, had "sort of
turned his brain."
"Why, Neale!" she exclaimed.
"Those poor, old, toothless, mangy beasts," chuckled Neale. "They had to
be poked up half an hour before the crowd came in, or they wouldn't act
their part at all. And half the time when the crowd thought the lions
were opening their mouths savagely, they were merely yawning."
"Don't!" gasped Agnes. "You'll spoil every menagerie I ever see if you
keep talking that way."
The laugh seemed to bring Neale back to a better mind. He sighed and
then shrugged his shoulders. "We'll find Ruth," he said, with
determination, "and then drive home. I'll see what Mr. Murphy says, and
then see Mr. Sorber."
"But he's come to take you away, Neale!" cried Agnes.
"What good will it do for me to run? He knows I'm here," said the boy,
hopelessly. "It would spoil my chance at school if I hid out somewhere.
No; I've got to face him. I might as well do so now."