Chapter 7

A WARM RECEPTION

Andy Wildwood was knocked senseless. When he came back to consciousness he found himself lying on a mattress in a little space surrounded by canvas. It was one of the circus dressing rooms.

He sniffed camphor, and one side of his head felt stiff and sore. Putting up his hand Andy discovered strips of sticking plaster there.

"Was I hurt?" he asked, sitting up.

"Circus doctor says not badly," promptly answered Marco, who stood by the mattress. "How is it, kid? No bones broken?"

"Oh, no," answered Andy readily, getting to his feet. "Say, what happened? The wind storm--"

"Gone over. It's sunshine outside now. A few hanks of thread will fix the rips. The show went on all right after the squall. But say, you're a daisy. That timber--oh, here she is to talk for herself."

Miss Stella Starr put in an appearance just here. She was neatly dressed in street costume. Her eyes were very bright, and there was a grateful smile on her womanly face as she grasped both of Andy's hands.

"You are a good boy," she said with enthusiasm. "Bring me a stool, Marco, I want to talk with him."

Andy flushed with embarrassment, as the little lady went on to insist that but for his quick foresight and energy she might have missed her salary, lying in a hospital for many a long day. She was very anxious as to Andy's injuries, and looked greatly relieved to find them trifling.

"Just a lump under the ear and a cut on one cheek," reported Andy indifferently. "They're worth having to see you ride, Miss."

"There, Marco!" cried the equestrienne brightly, "that is the handsomest compliment I ever received."

"The kid's a mascot," pronounced Marco in his heavy, earnest way. "He found my lost traps, and he maybe saved your life. What can we do for you, now?"

Andy shook his head vaguely. His bright face clouded. The human sympathy of his new friends had warmed his heart. It chilled, as he thought of Fairview and what awaited him there, especially Aunt Lavinia.

The quick witted equestrienne read his face like a book.

"See here, boy," she said, laying her gloved hand winningly on Andy's sleeve, "what is your name?" and as Andy told her she added; "And what is your trouble?"

"Do I look as if I had trouble?" inquired Andy with a forced smile.

"Don't try to fool Mrs. Jones, Wildwood," advised Marco. "She's our keenest. Has a boy at school nearly as old as you, haven't you, Mary?"

"Jones? Mary?" spoke Andy in some wonder. "I thought the lady's name was Stella Starr."

"On the posters and in the ring, yes," laughed the equestrienne. "Come, Andy, make a clean breast of it. Have you gone circus-crazy, and run away from home?"

"No ma'am, but I'd like to."

"Oh, dear! I guess you boys are all alike," commented the equestrienne. "Why do you wish to leave home?"

"It's a long story," said Andy, with a sigh.

"Tell it, Wildwood," spoke Marco. "We will be glad to listen."

"Yes, indeed," assented Stella Starr. "I am interested in you, Andy. You have been of great service to us. Let us help you, if we can."

Andy told his story. Stella Starr laughed merrily at his mild escapades. Marco's big eyes opened widely as Andy made plain the fact that he was a very fair amateur acrobat.

"Why, the kid is up to the trained average, if he can do all those things," he declared.

Stella Starr studied Andy silently for a few minutes. Then she said:

"Andy, I believe you are a good, truthful boy. I am sorry for you. You deserve a better home. I don't believe you will ever have it with your aunt."

"Half-aunt," muttered Marco.

"I do not consider you owe her any particular duty. You are not happy with her?"

"No, ma'am, never," said Andy.

"And I believe you would be happy with us."

"Yes, I would," said Andy, with emotion. "I love the life here."

"Very well, go back to Fairview just as you have planned. Arrange your affairs just as a clear conscience dictates to you. If fate leads you back here, come to me directly. I will speak to the manager and ask him to take you on with the show."

Tears of longing and gratefulness came to Andy's eyes. He could not stop them.

"You are good, kind people," he said in a muffled tone. "If I never see you again I shall never forget you."

Stella Starr kissed Andy on the cheek in a motherly way. Marco followed the boy outside. He thumped him on the back with the farewell words, uttered with emphasis:

"Cut for it, kid. Take my advice--it's good. You've got the making of a first-class ringer in you. Don't waste your ability in that humdrum town of yours."

Andy started for Fairview in a daze. So much had happened since morning that he could recall it all only in a series of long mental pictures. The kindness and suggestions of his new-found friends kept him thinking deeply.

It was nearly dusk when Andy entered Fairview. He steered clear of old comrades and familiar haunts. When he reached home it was by way of the rear fence.

A light shone in the little kitchen. His aunt was bustling about in a brisk, jumpy way that told Andy she was full of excitement and bottled-up wrath.

"Here goes, anyway," he said finally, vaulting the fence and reaching the woodshed.

Andy took up a good armful of wood, marched right up to the back steps and through the open doorway. He placed his load behind the kitchen stove.

"You graceless wretch!" were Miss Lavinia's first words.

She had a cooking fork in her hand and with it she jabbed the air viciously.

"Go up stairs instantly," she commanded next.

"I'm not sleepy, and I'm hungry," said Andy respectfully enough, but firmly.

He walked over to the set table and picked up two biscuits from a plate.

"Put those down, you put those down!" screamed Miss Lavinia. "Will you mind me?"

Andy pocketed the biscuits. He was taking wise precautions in view of past experiences with his termagant relative.

The boy stood his ground, and his aunt stamped her foot. Then she reached behind the stove and took up a stick used as a carpet beater. Armed with this she advanced threateningly upon Andy.

"Don't strike me, Aunt Lavinia," said Andy quickly. "I am getting too big for that. I won't stand it!"

"You scamp! you disgrace!" shouted his irate relative, still advancing upon him.

She beat at Andy, who snatched the stick from her hand, broke it in two and threw it out through the open doorway.

"I will go to my room if you insist upon it," said Andy now. "I don't see the need of treating me like a dog, though."

"Don't you?" screamed Miss Lavinia. "Oh, you precious rascal! Here I've worked my fingers off to keep you respectable, and you go and disgrace me shamefully. Go to your room, Andy Wildwood. We'll attend to this matter of yours in the morning."

"What matter?" demanded Andy.

"Never mind, now. Do as I say. There's a rod in pickle for you, young man, that may bring you to your senses this time."

Andy preferred loneliness up stairs to nagging down stairs. He left the kitchen and reached his own room. He lit a candle and sat down on the bed.

There was a sharp click at the door almost immediately. His aunt had stolen silently up the stairs and had bolted him in.

"As if that would keep me if I wanted to get out very bad!" thought Andy, with a glance at the frail door. "Oh, but I'm tired of all this! I've made up my mind. I shall leave Fairview."

Andy went to a shelf, felt in an old vase, and took out a key.

He fitted it to the lower drawer of the bureau in the room. It was full of old clothes and papers that had belonged to his father.

Finally Andy unearthed a little wooden box, and lifted it to the light. It held a lot of trinkets, and from among them Andy selected a large silver watch and chain. He also took out a small box. It was made of some very dark smooth wood, and its corners and center were decorated with carved pieces of gold and mother of pearl.

"The watch and chain are solid silver," murmured Andy. "The box was given to father by his father. It is made of some rare wood that grows in the South Sea islands. The gold on it is quite thick. I am sure the bare metal on those things is worth more than thirty dollars."

Andy carefully stowed the watch and little box in an inner pocket. Then he lay down on the bed to think, but without removing any of his clothing.

He silently munched the biscuits. His face cleared as reflection led to determination. Andy planned to leave the house as soon as it was closed up for the night and Aunt Lavinia was asleep.

"I can't stand it," he decided. "She says I'm a burden to her. I've got a show to enjoy myself and maybe make some money. Yes, it's Centreville and the circus by morning."

Andy was more tired out than he had fancied. He fell asleep. As he woke up, he discovered that heavy footsteps tramping up the stairs had aroused him.

He had caught the echo of lighter feet. There was rustling in the narrow entry outside.

Andy sprang up and listened intently.

"Aunt Lavinia and some one with her," he reflected. "I wonder who it can be?"

Just then a gruff voice spoke out:

"Is the boy in that room, Miss Lavinia?"

"Yes," said Andy's aunt.

"Then have him out, and let's have this unpleasant duty over and done with."