CHAPTER XXIII
TAMING A LION TAMER
Agnes was both frightened and angry as she listened to the man in thetopboots. He was such a coarse, rude fellow (or so she decided on theinstant) that she found herself fairly hating him!
Beside, she was well aware that he referred to Neale O'Neil. He had comefor Neale. He threatened to beat Neale with every snap of his heavyriding whip along the leg of his shiny boots. He was a beast!
That is what Agnes told herself. She was quick to jump at conclusions;but she was not quick to be disloyal to her friends.
Nor was she frightened long; especially not when she was angry. Shewould not tremble before this man, and she gained complete control ofherself ere she spoke again. She was not going to deliver Neale O'Neilinto his hands by any mistake of speech--no, indeed!
The name of Twomley & Sorter's Herculean Circus and Menagerie struck acord of memory in Agnes' mind. It was one of the two shows that hadexhibited at Milton the season before.
This man said that Neale had run away from this show. He claimed hisname was really Neale Sorber!
And all the time Neale had denied any knowledge of circuses. Or, _had_he done just that? Agnes' swift thought asked the question and answeredit. Neale had denied ever having attended a circus as a spectator. Thatmight easily be true!
Agnes' voice was quite unshaken as she said to the red-faced man: "Idon't think the person you are looking for is here, sir."
"Oh, yes he is! can't fool me," said the circus man, assuredly. "Youngscamp! He run away from his lawful guardeens and protectors. I'll showhim!" and he snapped the whiplash savagely again.
"He sha'n't show him in _that_ way if I can help it," thought Agnes. Butall she said aloud was: "There is no boy living here."
"Heh? how's that, Miss?" said Sorber, suspiciously.
Agnes repeated her statement.
"But you know where he does hang out?" said Sorber, slily, "I'll bebound!"
"I don't know that I do," Agnes retorted, desperately. "And if I didknow, I wouldn't tell you!"
The man struck his riding boot sharply again. "What's that? what'sthat?" he growled.
Agnes' pluck was rising. "I'm not afraid of you--so there!" she said,bobbing her head at him.
"Why, bless you, Miss!" ejaculated Sorber. "I should hope not. Iwouldn't hurt you for a farm Down East with a pig on it--no, Ma'am! Wekeep whips for the backs of runaways--not for pretty little ladies likeyou."
"You wouldn't _dare_ beat Neale O'Neil!" gasped Agnes.
"Ah-ha?" exclaimed the man. "'Neale O'Neil?' Then you do know him?"
Agnes was stricken dumb with apprehension. Her anger had betrayed Neale,she feared.
"So that's what he calls himself, is it?" repeated Sorber. "O'Neil washis father's name. I didn't think he would remember."
"We can't be talking about the same boy," blurted out Agnes, trying tocover her "bad break." "You say his name is Sorber."
"Oh, he could take any name. I thought maybe he'd call himself'Jakeway.' He was called 'Master Jakeway' on the bills and he'd oughterbe proud of the name. We had too many Sorbers in the show. Sorber,ringmaster and lion tamer--that's _me_, Miss. Sully Sorber, firstclown--that's my half brother, Miss. William Sorber is treasurer andticket seller--under bonds, Miss. He's my own brother. And--until a fewyears ago--there was Neale's mother. She was my own sister."
Agnes had begun to be very curious. And while he was talking, the girlwas looking Sorber over for a second time.
He was not all bad! Of that Agnes began to be sure. Yet he wanted tobeat Neale O'Neil for running away from a circus.
To tell the truth, Agnes could scarcely understand how a boy could sodislike circus life as to really _want_ to run away from even Twomley &Sorber's Herculean Circus and Menagerie. There was a glitter and tinselto the circus that ever appealed to Agnes herself!
Personally Mr. Sorber lost none of his coarseness on longeracquaintance, but now Agnes noticed that there were humorous wrinklesabout his eyes, and an upward twist to the corners of his mouth. Shebelieved after all he might be good-natured.
Could she help Neale in any way by being friendly with this man? Shecould try. There was a rustic bench under the Baldwin tree.
"Won't you sit down, Mr. Sorber?" suggested Agnes, politely.
"Don't care if I do, Miss," declared the showman, and took an end of thebench, leaving the other end invitingly open, but Agnes leaned againstthe tree trunk and watched him.
"A nice old place you've got here. They tell me it's called 'the OldCorner House.' That's the way I was directed here. And so that rascal ofmine's been here all winter? Nice, soft spot he fell into."
"It was I that came near falling," said Agnes, gravely, "and it wasn't asoft spot at all under that tree. I'd have been hurt if it hadn't beenfor Neale."
"Hel-_lo_!" exclaimed Neale's uncle, sharply. "What's this all about?That rascal been playin' the hero again? My, my! It ought to be a bigdrawin' card when we play this town in August. He always _was_ a goodnumber, as Master Jakeway in high and lofty tumbling; when he rodebareback; or doing the Joey----"
"The Joey?" repeated the girl, interested, but puzzled.
"That's being a clown, Miss. He has doubled as clown and bareback whenwe was short of performers and having a hard season."
"Our Neale?" gasped Agnes.
"Humph! Dunno about his being _yours_," said Sorber, with twinklingeyes. "He's mine, I reckon, by law."
Agnes bit her lip. It made her angry to have Sorber talk so confidentlyabout his rights over poor Neale.
"Let me tell you how he came here," she said, after a moment, "and whathe's done since he came to Milton."
"Fire away, Miss," urged the showman, clasping his pudgy hands, on afinger of one of them showing the enormous seal ring.
Agnes "began at the beginning," for once. She did not really know whyshe did so, but she gave the particulars of all that had happened toNeale--as she knew them--since he had rushed in at that gate the man hadso lately entered and saved her from falling into the big peachtree bythe bedroom window.
Mr. Sorber's comments as she went along, were characteristic. Sometimeshe chuckled and nodded, anon he scowled, and more than once he rappedhis bootleg soundly with the whip.
"The little rascal!" he said at last. "And he could have stayed with us,hived up as us'al in the winter with only the critters to nuss and tend,and been sure of his three squares.
"What does he rather do, but work and slave, and almost freeze andstarve--jest to git what, I ax ye?"
"An education, I guess," said Agnes, mildly.
"Huh!" grunted Sorber. Then he was silent; but after a while he said:"His father all over again. Jim O'Neil was a kid-gloved chap. If hecould have let drink alone, he never would have come down to us showpeople.
"Huh! Well, my sister was as good as he was. And she stayed in thebusiness all her life. And what was good enough for Jim O'Neil's wifewas good enough for his kid--and is good enough to-day. Now I've gothim, and I'm a-going to lug him back--by the scruff of the neck, if needbe!"
Agnes felt her lip trembling. What should she do? If Neale came rightaway, this awful man would take him away--as he said--"by the scruff ofhis neck."
And what would happen to poor Neale? What would ever become of him? AndMiss Georgiana was so proud of him. Mr. Marks had praised him. He wasgoing to graduate into high school in June----
"And he shall!" thought the Corner House girl with an inspireddetermination. "Somehow I'll find a way to tame this lion tamer--see ifI don't!"
"Well, Miss, you'd better perduce the villain," chuckled Mr. Sorber. "Ifhe goes peaceable, we'll let bygones be bygones. He's my own sister'schild. And Twomley says for me not to come back without him. I tell ye,he's a drawin' card, and no mistake."
"But, Mr. Sorber!" cried Agnes. "He wants to study so."
"Shucks! I won't stop him. He's allus readin' his book. I ain't neverstopped him. Indeed, I've give him money many a time to buy a book whenI needed the c
hink myself for terbacker."
"But----"
"And Twomley said I was doin' wrong. Less the boy learned, less he'd belike his father. And I expect Twomley's right."
"What was the matter with Neale's father?" questioned Agnes, almostafraid that she was overstepping the bounds of decency in asking. Butcuriosity--and interest in Neale--urged her on.
"He couldn't content himself in the show business. He was thehigh-tonedest ringmaster we ever had. I was only actin' the lions and aden of hyenas in them days. But I cut out the hyenas. You can't tamethem brutes, and a man's got to have eyes in the back of his head and inhis elbers, to watch 'em.
"Well! Jim O'Neil was a good-looker, and the Molls buzzed round him likebees round a honey pot. My sister was one of them and I'll say himfair--Jim O'Neil never raised his hand to her.
"But after the boy come he got restless. Said it was no life for a kid.Went off finally--to Klondike, or somewhere--to make his fortune. Neverheard of him since. Of course he's dead or he'd found us, for lemme tellyou, Miss, the repertation of Twomley & Sorber's Herculean Circus andMenagerie ain't a light hid under a bushel--by no manner o' means!"
Not if Mr. Sorber were allowed to advertise it, that was sure. But theman went on:
"So there you have it. Neale's mine. I'm his uncle. His mother told mewhen she was dying to look after him. And I'm a-going to. Now trot himout, Miss," and Mr. Sorber mopped his bald brow under the jaunty stiffhat. He was quite breathless.
"But I haven't him here, sir," said Agnes. "He doesn't live here."
"He ain't here?"
"No. He is living near. But he is not at home now."
"Now, see here----"
"I never tell stories," said Agnes, gravely.
Mr. Sorber had the grace to blush. "I dunno as I doubt ye, Miss----"
"We expect Neale here about four o'clock. Before that my sister Ruthwill be at home. I want you to stay and see her, Mr. Sorber----"
"Sure I'll meet her," said Mr. Sorber, warmly. "I don't care if I meetevery friend Neale's made in this man's town. But that don't make nodiffer. To the Twomley & Sorber tent show he belongs, and that's wherehe is a-goin' when I leave this here town to-night."