The Corner House Girls Growing Up Part 24

Louise wanted to see everything to be seen outside before paying over their good money to get into the big show. So they wandered among the tents for some time, without a thought of the old ca.n.a.lboat. Indeed, they were out of sight of it when the mule kicked over the stove on the _Nancy Hanks_ and that pirate craft (according to the first hopes of Sammy Pinkney) caught fire.

Indeed, n.o.body on the circus grounds was looking ca.n.a.lward. Torches were beginning to flare up here and there in the darkening field. There were all kinds of sideshows and "penny pops"--lifting machines, hammer-throws, a shooting gallery, a baseball alley with a grinning black man dodging the ball at the end--"certainly should like to try to hit that n.i.g.g.e.r," Pap declared--taffy booths, popcorn machines, soft drink booths, and a dozen other interesting things.

Of course, Louise and her father could only look. They had no money to spend on side issues--or sideshows. But they looked their fill. For once Cap'n Bill appeared to be awake. He was as interested in what there was to be seen as the child clinging to his hairy hand.

They went back of the big tent and there was one with the canvas raised so that they could see the horses and ponies stabled within. Some of the fattest and sleekest horses were being harnessed and trimmed for the "grand entrance," and such a shaking of heads to hear the tiny bells ring, and stamping of oiled hoofs as there was--all the airs of a vain girl before her looking-gla.s.s!

Louise was stricken dumb before a pony, all patches of brown and cream color, and with pink like a seash.e.l.l inside its ears and on its muzzle.

The pony's mane was all "crinkly" and its bang was parted and braided with blue ribbons.

"Oh, Pap!" gasped the little girl, breathlessly, "isn't he a _dear_? I never did see so harnsome a pony."

A short, stout man, with a very red face and a long-lashed whip in his hand who was standing by, heard the ca.n.a.lboat girl and smiled kindly upon her. He was dressed for the ring--s.h.i.+ny top hat, varnished boots, and all, and Louise thought him a most wonderful looking man indeed. If anybody had told her Mr. Bill Sorber was the president of the United States she would have believed it.

"So you like that pony, do you?" asked the ringmaster. "He's some pony.

I reckon the little girls he belongs to will like him, too."

"Oh, isn't he a circus pony?" asked Louise, wide-eyed.

"He was. But I'm just going to send him to Milton to live with some little girls I know, and I bet Scalawag will have a lazy time of it for the rest of his natural life. And he'll like that," chuckled Mr. Sorber, deep in his chest, "for Scalawag's the laziest pony I ever tried to handle."

"Oh," murmured Louise, "he seems too nice a horse to be called by such a bad name."

"Bless you! he don't mind it at all," declared the ringmaster. "And it fits him right down to the ground! He's as full of tricks as an egg is of meat--yes ma'am! Ain't you, Scalawag?"

He touched the pony lightly with his whip upon his round rump and the pony flung out his pretty heels and whinnied. Then at a touch under his belly Scalawag stood up on his hind legs and pawed the air to keep his balance.

"Oh!" gasped Louise Quigg, with clasped hands.

"Just as graceful as a barrel, Scalawag," chuckled Mr. Sorber. "He's too fat. But I just can't help feedin' critters well. I like to feed well myself. And I know where he's going to live in Milton he'll be well tended. Hullo! what's going on?"

For suddenly a shout was heard beyond the main tent. Somebody cried, "Fire! Fire!" and there was a roaring of an automobile approaching the circus grounds at a rapid rate.

"What's goin' on?" repeated Mr. Sorber, and started upon an elephantine trot for the ca.n.a.l side of the field.

"Come on, Pap! We don't want to miss nothin'," gasped Louise, seizing the gaping Quigg's hand. She left the calico pony, however, with a backward glance of longing.

The crowd broke for the ca.n.a.l bank. When the captain and his daughter came in sight of the fire the flames were shooting ten feet high out of the cabin roof.

The boat was moored across the ca.n.a.l. Neale, driving down to the bank, saw that the water was between them and the fire, so he halted the car.

A heavy man, bearing two empty pails in each hand, and followed closely by another man and a little girl likewise bearing buckets, came gaspingly to the automobile.

"Hi, Mister!" puffed Mr. Bill Sorber, "ast your party to git out and take us over the bridge in that there machine of yours, will you? That ca.n.a.lboat belongs to this here man and his little gal--why, Neale!"

"Hullo, Uncle Bill! Hop in--you and your friends," cried Neale.

"Come in--hurry, Mr. Sorber!" Ruth added her plea. "Oh!" she said to Louise, "is that the _Nancy Hanks_?"

"Sure as ever was," gulped Louise. "Come on, Pap! John and Jerry will be burnt to a cinder, so they will."

"Tell me, child," Luke said, lifting the girl into his lap as he sat in front with Neale, and crowding over to give the lanky Cap'n Quigg room to sit. "Tell me, are there others aboard the boat?"

"John and Jerry," sobbed Louise.

"Well, well!" Luke soothed. "Don't cry. They can open the door of the cabin and walk out, can't they?"

"Nop. They're chained to stanchions."

"_Chained?_" gasped the excitable Agnes from the rear. "How awful! Have you got children--"

"Aw, who said anything about children?" demanded Louise snappily. "Only John and Jerry."

"Well?"

"Them's mules," said the child, as Neale drove the car on at increasing speed.

"Tell us," Ruth begged, quite as anxious now as her sister, "have you seen two children--a boy and a girl--this afternoon?"

"Lots of 'em," replied Louise, succinctly.

Here Cap'n Bill put in a word. "If there's anything to see, children, or what not, Lowise seen 'em. She's got the brightest eyes!"

"We are looking for a little girl with a doll in her arms and a boy about ten years old. They were carrying a big paper bag and a basket of fruit, and maybe were near the ca.n.a.l at Milton--right there at the blacksmith shop where you had your mules shod to-day."

This was Luke's speech, and despite the jarring and bouncing of the car he made his earnest words audible to the captain of the ca.n.a.lboat and to his daughter.

"Did they come aboard your boat? Or did you see them?" he added.

"Ain't been n.o.body aboard our boat but our ownselfs and Beauty,"

declared Louise.

"And you did not see two children--"

"Holt on!" cried the girl. "I guess I seen 'em when we was waitin' to get the mules shod. They went by."

"Which way were they going?"

"Toward the ca.n.a.l--they was. And our boat was in sight. But I didn't see 'em after."

"Oh, my dear!" cried Ruth, from the tonneau, "they could not possibly be shut up anywhere on your boat?"

"Why, they wasn't in the cabin, of course--nor the mules' stable,"

drawled the captain. "Warn't nowhere else."

The automobile roared down toward the burning ca.n.a.lboat. The crowd from the circus field lined up along the other bank; but the towpath was deserted where the _Nancy Hanks_ lay. The flames were rapidly destroying the boat amids.h.i.+ps.