BULL HARRIS BEATS A RETREAT.
The scene that resulted is left to the reader’s imagination. Bull was
simply drenched; he was sputtering and gasping with rage. As for the
elephant, he set up a terrific trumpeting, which, together with the
cries of the cadets, brought the circus attendants in on a run.
(It is needless to say that Mark and Dewey had fled long ago, ready to
burst with hilarity.)
The circus men had expected some danger from the cries they heard.
When they discovered what was really the matter they broke into roars
of laughter, for they were only human. That made Bull all the madder.
“You shall pay for this!” he shouted, furiously. “Why don’t you keep
that beast where he can’t hurt anything?”
“What made you tease him?” retorted one of the others, shrewdly
suspecting that the meek old elephant’s act was not uncaused.
“I wasn’t teasing him!” roared Bull. “You lie if you――――”
Bull was red with rage, but he turned a little pale as one of the men
sprang toward him.
“Shut up!” said he, “or I’ll dump you in the rest of that water and
roll you in the mud besides.”
It was at least half an hour before Mark and Dewey managed to recover.
The whole affair was so utterly ludicrous! Such a tale it would make
to tell the rest of the Seven!
“Gee whiz!” cried Mark, suddenly. “I forgot all about that. Let’s
hustle over and tell ’em now.”
“B’gee, that’s so,” cried Dewey. “I never thought of it, either.
Reminds me of a story I once heard, b’gee――――”
That was a very funny story; it was one of Dewey’s very best, and I
wish that I could repeat it. The only trouble was that it was never
finished. For, standing where they were, near the menagerie tent
again, they heard two voices in conversation. What they heard
completely drove from Dewey’s mind all thoughts of jokes and stories.
It suggested a prospect of sport that knocked all previous adventures
into the shade.
This was the conversation:
“Mike drunk! For heaven’s sakes, man! That’s the second time this
week. How on earth will we ever do without him?”
The voice was that of the proprietor, all his anger at his treatment
by Texas having left him at what was evidently some bad news.
“We’ll have to miss showing the dime museum tent again!” he groaned.
“And it’ll mean five dollars out of my pocket, after I’ve just lost a
twenty, too! Confound it!”
“Can’t you get somebody to take his place?” inquired another voice.
“No! How can I? I couldn’t do it myself, for I can’t remember half the
jokes and things Mike used to get off in his speech when he exhibited
the freaks. He kept the people laughing and they never saw how rotten
the confounded exhibition is. And now what on earth am I to do?”
This dialogue was not meant for Mark and Dewey, but they heard it in
passing. Now they were out for fun, bold and daring, both of them. And
to each at the same moment those words suggested a wildly delicious
idea. They turned and stared at each other with a look of inspiration
on their faces; gave one gasp of delight; and then Dewey seized Mark
by the shoulders.
“B’gee, old man,” he cried, “I dare you!”
An instant later Smithers felt a light tap upon the arm. He turned and
confronted a tramp in a torn yellow and red tennis blazer, with hands
bound up in rags.
“What do you want?”
“I was just going to say I’d exhibit your museum freaks for you. I and
my friend there.”
“You!” gasped the professor. “Who are you?”
“I’m a professional stump speaker,” said the tramp, winking knowingly.
“And my friend here’s a professional joke writer. And if you’ll just
show us the freaks and give us a while to think up jokes, we’ll make
you famous.”
“How much do you want?” inquired Smithers, suspiciously.
“Nothing. We’ll do it for love, to get you out of a scrape.”
The man gazed at them in doubt for a moment more, and then he turned
upon his heel.
“Come,” he said, briefly, and led the way out to the gayly painted
tent mentioned previously.
The four members of the Banded Seven who had stayed behind to see the
rest of the show wandered out disconsolately after it was over. Mr.
Smithers had previously announced from the ring that the marvelous
museum was now on exhibition for the “purely nominal sum of ten
cents,” also that Professor Salvatori would be on hand to deliver one
of his famous addresses, assisted by Mr. So-and-So. Finding that this
bait had been taken by most of the crowd, and not knowing what else to
do with themselves, since their leader had deserted them, the four
strolled into the much painted tent.
They were but little prepared for the amazing sight which greeted them
after a few minutes’ wait. In the first place there were a number of
glass cases with little platforms upon which the professor was to
mount, and in the second there was a crowd of people wandering about
staring curiously. Then suddenly the trumpet blew a blast, and with
Mr. Smithers at their head, in strode――good heavens! Mark and Dewey!
The plebes could hardly believe their eyes; they stared and gasped,
and then gasped and stared. They rubbed their eyes and pinched
themselves. And meanwhile Professor Salvatori beamed down on them
benignly as he stepped lightly up to the platform.
“Wow!” gasped Texas. “He’s a-goin’ to make a speech!”
“Bless my soul!” muttered Indian. “What an extraordinary proceeding!”
Meanwhile Mr. Smithers had stepped out upon the platform with his best
professional style.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you that it gives me the greatest of
pleasure to present to you this afternoon my distinguished friends,
Professor Salvatori (a bow) and his able and witty assistant
(another). Ladies and gentlemen, Professor Salvatori is so well known
to you all that I am sure it would be a presumption on my part to tell
you of his history. The address which he delivered before his royal
highness, the Duke of Bavaria, was published in all the leading
scientific reviews of the day, and I am sure was appreciated by you
all. It was during his remarkable trip through the wilds of Central
Africa that most of these extraordinary specimens were collected,
notably that magnificent painting of a Polar bear devouring a walrus
which you doubtless observed upon the outside of the tent. Ladies and
gentlemen, I assure you you have a treat in store. Listen, all of you.
Professor Salvatori.”
During this most original and startling introduction, Professor
Salvatori had been bowing right and left, and the four had been
staring their eyes out. In the midst of it the fun-loving Texas seized
the others and drew them to one side.
“Fellers,” he whispered, “Mark’s a-goin’ to make a speech. He didn’t
tell us. Let’s git square.”
“How?”
“Let’s guy him!”
And in half a second more those four rascals had vowed to “bust up”
that speech. Truly there was fun in store when once Professor
Salvatori got started, and the conspirators fairly danced about with
impatience.
Professor Salvatori meanwhile had not been hesitating, but with a
jaunty stride had stepped to the fore. He wasn’t the least bit
embarrassed. Why should a man who had lectured before the Duke of
Bavaria care for country bumpkins like these? He wiped his brow with a
graceful flourish and cleared his throat pompously.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said he.
That was a fine starter and the professor gazed at the crowd as much
to say “Could you have done any better?” The four fellows chuckled.
“After the most embarrassing eulogy which my old friend, General
Smithers, has given me, I am sure I need say nothing more about myself
to you. It would be presumptuous and therefore――ahem!――I shall proceed
immediately to the business in hand. Now then!”
This graceful introduction over the professor signaled his assistant
in a superior way to lift the curtain of a glass case disclosing the
“huge” boa constrictor some five feet long.
“In the words of the poem, ladies and gentlemen,” said the professor.
“‘Oh here’s your anaconda boa constrictor
Oft called anaconda for brevity.
He’s noted the world throughout
For his age and great longevity.
“‘He can eat himself, crawl through himself,
And come out of himself with agility;
He can tie himself in a double bowknot
And undo himself with the greatest facility.’”
This masterpiece could not prevent a groan of disgust from the crowd
who were disappointed at the size. Texas saw a chance to begin right
there.
“’Tain’t so big as the picture!” he roared, and the spectators
murmured approvingly.
They thought the bold fellow was out for more fun and they meant to
back him up.
“That picture,” returned Mark, smiling, “is the exact size the boa
constrictor would have been if he hadn’t died some fifty years ago, a
misfortune for which I cannot be to blame. At present he is
stuffed――――”
“The whole show’s stuffed!”
It was the Parson who said that. Mark stared at the clerical and
classical gentlemen until he saw that every one in the crowd was
likewise taking in that lank burly form. And then he remarked dryly:
“You’d look a sight better if you were stuffed, too.”
That brought down the house and Professor Salvatori knew that he had
won the crowd over. He beamed upon his chagrined friends benevolently
and went on. He narrated several marvelous tales of his adventures
with large snakes in Africa, the province of Farina land. And then
Dewey was promptly reminded of one of his yarns, b’gee! which he told
in his inimitable way and made everybody laugh.
Then they moved on to the Siamese twins.
“He’s dead, too,” observed Mark. “He died in jail, poor fellow. He’d
committed a crime one-half of him, and it was quite a problem how to
keep in jail without keeping the other one in too. He had committed a
horrible crime――――”
“What was it?” cried Indian, innocently.
“Bigamy,” said Mark, calmly. “He’d been leading a double life.”
By this time things were progressing with delightful smoothness. The
crowd was in good humor, laughing at everything. When you once get
people in a laughing mood they do that. Mr.――er――General Smithers was
beaming serenely, thinking of offering a permanent job to these two
quick-witted unfortunates.
And in the meantime they were still talking.
“And now we come to the India-rubber man,” said Mark. “A little of
this India-rubber man goes a very long way, and therefore I shall move
on to this next curious and most interesting specimen, the man with
the iron jaw. He is indeed worthy of notice.”
Texas and his mischievous friends ventured yet one more effort then.
“Where’s the iron jaw?” they shouted, all in a breath.
“Where’s the jaw!” echoed Mark, indignantly. “Why don’t you use your
eyes and see? It’s lying right there in his lap for you to look at.”
The crowd roared with delight at that; sure enough the man held up a
bit of rusty iron in the shape of a human jaw. As for Texas he started
back and stared about him in bewilderment.
And then suddenly came a most amazing development. The spectators
could put but one construction upon it; the savage Texas was enraged
at having been laughed at.
With a muttered exclamation he leaped forward, sprang at a bound to
the platform, and rushing at Professor Salvatori dealt him a blow upon
the face!
There was the wildest confusion in a moment. The crowd hissed and
shouted indignantly. Smithers rushed forward. The rest of the Banded
Seven gasped. As for Mark he started back white as a sheet with anger.
“Why Texas!” he cried in an amazed whisper.
“You chump!” muttered Texas under his breath. “Don’t you understand?
Fly for your life! Chase me!”
Mark gazed about him in bewilderment; an instant later he caught sight
of something that told him all. Just entering the door of the tent, a
lady leaning upon his arm, was a blue uniformed figure, a tactical
officer, Lieutenant Allen! And quick as a flash Mark saw the ruse, and
with a cry of mock rage made a savage leap at Texas.
Texas sprang to the ground, Mark at his heels, and carefully looking
away from the distant “tac.” Texas plunged through the crowd, Mark
following at full tilt and shouting for vengeance. Texas slid under
the tent wall, Mark after him, and then Dewey and the other plebes in
full hue and cry. A minute more and they were flying across lots to
the shelter of the woods, General Smithers, all his patrons, and in
fact all Highland Falls gazing at their flying figures in amazement.
“A lunatic asylum broke loose,” was the ultimate verdict.
The Banded Seven once in the woods and alone, seated themselves on the
ground and stared at each other and roared with laughter for an hour.
Then they slipped back to camp fully satisfied with the fun they had
experienced that day.