CHAPTER XXII
MR. SORBER
Tess had presence of mind enough to holloa "Whoa!" and she kept right onsaying it. Usually it was effective, but on this occasion Billy Bumpswas deaf to his little mistress.
Dot clung to Tess's shoulders and screamed. There was really nothingelse for her to do.
Sammy had grabbed at the goat's horns and was promptly overthrown. Theyleft him roaring on his back upon the brick walk, while the goat toreon, dragging the bumping wagon behind him.
Billy Bumps had not earned his name without reason. Having taken aim atthe bulldog jumping up and down against the trunk of the pear tree,nothing but a solid wall could have stopped him.
There was a crash as one forward wheel of the cart went over a stone.Out toppled Tess and Dot upon the soft earth.
Billy Bumps went on and collided with Jock, much to that animal'ssurprise and pain. The bulldog uttered a single yelp as the goat got himbetween his hard horns and the treetrunk.
"You stop that, Billy!" roared Sam, struggling to his feet. "Let my dogalone."
But Jock was not likely to give the goat a second chance. He limpedaway, growling and showing his teeth, while Billy Bumps tried to freehimself of the harness so as to give pursuit.
"Don't you hurt Billy!" Tess screamed at Sam, getting to her feet andhelping Dot to rise.
"I'd like to knock him!" cried Sam.
"You ought to keep your dog out of our yard!" declared Tess. Dot wascrying a little and the older girl was really angry.
"I'll set him onto that Billy Bumps next time I get a chance," growledSam.
"You dare!" cried Tess.
But Jock was already outside of the yard. When Sam whistled for him, heonly wagged his stump of a tail; he refused to return to a place where,it was plain to his doggish intelligence, he was not wanted. Besides,Jock had not yet gotten a full breath since the goat butted him.
Sammy picked up a clothes-pole and started to punish Billy Bumps as hethought fit. Just then the goat got free from the cart and started forMaster Pinkney. The latter dropped the pole and got to the gate first,but only just in time, for Billy crashed head-first into it, breaking apicket, he was so emphatic!
"You wait! I'll kill your old goat," threatened Sammy, shaking his fistover the fence. "You see if I don't, Tess Kenway," forgetting, itseemed, that it had been he who had presented the goat to the CornerHouse girl.
Billy trotted back proudly to the girls to be petted, as though he haddone a very meritorious act. Perhaps he had, for Sandyface at once camedown from the tree, to sit on the porch in the sunshine and "wash herface and hands"; she doubtless considered Billy Bumps very chivalrous.
The great hullabaloo brought most of the family to the scene, as well asNeale from over the back fence. But the fun was all over and Sammy andhis bulldog were gone when the questioners arrived.
Dot explained volubly: "Billy Bumps wouldn't see poor Sandy abused--no,he wouldn't! That's why he went for that horrid dog."
"Why," said Ruth, laughing, "Billy must be a regular knight."
"'In days of old, when knights were bold!'" sang Neale.
"I've an improvement on _that_," Agnes said, eagerly. "Listen:
"'Sir Guy, a knight, In armor bright, Took tea with Mistress Powsers. With manner free, She spilled the tea, And rusted Guy's best trousers!'"
"Then he certainly must have looked _a guy_!" Neale declared. "I alwayswondered how those 'knights of old' got along in their tin uniforms.After a campaign in wet weather they must have been a pretty rustylooking bunch."
It was about this time that Neale O'Neil got his name in the localpaper, and the Corner House girls were very proud of him.
Although Neale was so close-mouthed about his life before his arrival inMilton, the girls knew he was fond of, and had been used to, horses. Ifhe obtained a job on Saturday helping a teamster, or driving a privatecarriage, he enjoyed _that_ day's work, if no other.
On a certain Saturday the girls saw Neale drive by early in the morningwith a handsome pair of young horses, drawing loam to a part of theParade ground which was to be re-seeded. The contractor had onlyrecently bought these young horses from the West, but he trusted Nealewith them, for he knew the boy was careful and seemed able to handlealmost any kind of a team.
The Kenway sisters went shopping that afternoon as usual. The end ofMain Street near Blachstein and Mapes department store, and the UniqueCandy Store, and other shops that the sisters patronized, were filledwith shoppers. Milton was a busy town on Saturdays.
Tess and Dot were crossing the street at Ralph Avenue when a shouting upMain Street made them turn to look that way. People in the streetscattered and certain vehicles were hastily driven out of the way of apair of horses that came charging down the middle of Main Street likemad.
Ruth saw the danger of her younger sisters, and called to them from thedoorway of the drugstore.
"Tess! Dot! Quick! Come here!"
But Agnes ran from across the street and hustled the smaller girls uponthe sidewalk. Then they could all give their attention to the runaway.
Not until then did they realize that it was the team Neale O'Neil hadbeen driving. An auto horn had startled them at the Parade Ground, whileNeale was out of the wagon, and downtown they started.
It seemed to the onlookers as though the team traveled faster everyblock! Nevertheless Neale had chased and overtaken the wagon not farbelow the old Corner House.
He clambered over the tailboard and, as the wagon rocked from side toside and its noise spurred the maddened horses to greater speed, the boyplunged forward and climbed into the seat.
The reins had been torn from the whipstock; they were dragging in thestreet. It looked for the moment as though Neale had risked his life fornothing. He could not halt the runaways!
Another boy might have failed, even after getting that far; but not"that circus boy"!
People along the street set up a shout when they beheld Neale O'Neilleap right down on the pole of the wagon and stretch out perilously toseize the reins at the hames. He had them and was back in the seatbefore the horses had run another block.
As he passed Ralph Avenue where the Corner House girls stood, he hadlost his hat; his hair, which had grown long again, was blowing back inthe wind, and his white face was a mask of determination.
"Oh! he'll be killed!" whispered Ruth.
"He's going to stop them!" crowed Agnes, with assurance.
And so Neale did. He stopped them as soon as he could get into the seat,brace his feet, and obtain a purchase on the lines. He knew how to breakthe horses' hold on the bits, and sawing at their mouths sharply, hesoon brought them to a stop.
He tried to drive back to his work then without being accosted by thecrowd that quickly gathered. But the reporter from the _Post_ was righton the spot and the next morning a long article appeared on the frontpage of the paper about the runaway and about the youngster who hadplayed the hero.
Because Neale refused to talk to the reporter himself, other people hadtalked for him, and quite a little romance about Neale was woven intothe story. Even the fact that he went by the nickname of "the circusboy" at school got into the story, and it was likewise told how he hadmade a high mark in gymnastics.
Neale seemed terribly cut-up when the girls showed him the article inthe paper. "Why," said Ruth, "you ought to be proud."
"Of that tattling business?" snapped Neale.
"No. Not so much that the paper speaks well of you, but because of yourability to do such a thing," said the oldest Corner House girl. "Itisn't every boy that could do it."
"I should hope not!" growled Neale, emphatically. "Let me tell you," headded, angrily, "the reason I can do such things is the reason why I amsuch an ignorant fellow--and so far behind other chaps of my age."
And that is the nearest Neale had ever come to saying anything directlyabout his old life. That it had been hard, and unpleasant, and that hehad been denied the benefits of schooling were abo
ut all the facts thegirls had gathered, even now.
After that Neale seemed more afraid than ever of meeting somebody on thepublic streets. Agnes and Ruth knew that he never went out evenings,save to climb over the fence and come to the old Corner House.
He was spending more time at his books, having earned a nice little sumduring the winter taking care of furnaces and shoveling paths. That workwas past now, and he said he had enough money to keep him comfortablyuntil the end of the school year.
It was another Saturday. Neale had driven out into the country for aneighbor, but had promised to come to the old Corner House about fouro'clock. Almost always he took supper Saturday evening with the girls.Mrs. MacCall usually had fishcakes and baked beans, and Neale wasextravagantly fond of that homely New England combination.
As it chanced, none of the four Kenways but Ruth went shopping thatafternoon. It was warm enough for Tess and Dot to have their dolls outin the summer-house. They had set up house-keeping there for the seasonand were very busy.
Agnes had found a book that she enjoyed immensely, and she was wrappedup in an old coat and hidden in a crotch of the Baldwin appletree behindthe woodshed. She was so deeply absorbed that she did not wake to theclick of the gate-latch and did not realize there was a stranger in theyard until she heard a heavy boot on the brick walk.
"Hello, my gal!" said a rough voice. "Ain't none of the folks to home?"
Agnes dropped the book and sprang down from the appletree in a hurry.There at the corner of the shed stood a man in varnished top boots, withspurs in the heels--great, cruel looking spurs--velveteen breeches, ashort, dirty white flannel coat, and a hard hat--something between astovepipe and a derby. Agnes realized that it was some kind of a ridingcostume that he wore, and he lashed his bootleg with his riding whip ashe talked.
He was such a red-faced man, and he was so stout and rough looking, thatAgnes scarcely knew how to speak to him. She noted, too, that he had abig seal ring on one finger and that a heavy gold watchchain showedagainst his waistcoat where the short jacket was cut away.
"Who--who are you?" Agnes managed to stammer at last. "And what do youwant?"
"Why, I'm Sorber, I am," said the man. "Sorber, of Twomley & Sorber'sHerculean Circus and Menagerie. And my errand here is to git hold of achap that's run away from me and my partner. I hear he's in Milton, andI come over from our winter quarters, out o' which we're going to gitinstanter, Miss; and they tells me down to that newspaper office that Ikin find him here.
"Now, Miss, where is that 'circus boy' as they call him? NealeSorber--that's his name. And I'm goin' to take him away with me."