Chapter 20

WHEN THE CIRCUS CAME TO RIVERPORT

"You'll go home if we can get you there, won't you, Tom?" asked Fred, after a little time had clasped, and the poor fellow on the hay seemed better able to reply, having mastered his emotions.

"I'd be a fool not to say yes!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "'Specially when you tell me my folks they want me home again. I've lived a dog's life ever since I run away. Hain't never dared to ask about news from Riverport, 'case I reckoned Chief Sutton he must be alookin' everywhere for me. I'll go home, and thank you, fellers; you jest better b'lieve I will!"

That settled one thing; Fred knew he could not expect to finish that run. Indeed, the roads were not in the best of condition after the storm for anything like comfort, and perhaps it might be just as well for them all to give up trying to foot it along the rest of the course.

Having hastily considered this matter, he broached the subject to the others.

"Let's look at the thing, boys," he began, as they gathered around him, knowing that a plan of campaign was being considered. "What we wanted most of all was to get familiar with this cut-off up here."

"No trouble about the rest of the route," ventured Colon, "because it's going to be along the open roads, and every fellow can get it down pat from studying the map they've posted. But this cut-off is left blank."

"Meaning that you can go all the way around, making three miles, or else take your chance in cutting across country," Bristles added.

"Well, my plan is something like this," continued Fred. "Let's pick out the first good afternoon next week, get a car from somewhere, if we can borrow one, and run up here. Then we can cross over to the toll-gate, and back again. That ought to fix things so we'll never miss the way when the big date comes along."

"Hear! hear!" cried Bristles.

"We like your plan, Fred," replied Sid, "and for one I'm ready to call this run off. The weather is against us, and we'd have a high old time splattering through the mud for about thirteen miles."

"Besides," added Colon, "we think we ought to be along when you take Tom Flanders home to his folks. I happen to know how bad they've felt about his being gone!"

That seemed to settle the matter in so far as continuing the trial spin went. Fred was not sorry, because he felt that he would enjoy having his cheery chums along with him.

"Then the next question is, how we're going to get home?" and he turned to the injured boy, to say; "You haven't told us just how you came to break your leg, Tom, and why you didn't manage to crawl to the house so as to get help?"

"I knowed the old man an' his wife they was all away to-day, that's why," was the reply Tom made; "an' as for my accident, it happened so quick I couldn't hardly tell about it. Reckon I ketched my foot in some loose board up in that leetle loft, where I was adoin' somethin'. Fust thing I knowed I felt myself flyin' every which way, over the edge, and kim down on the ground, with my leg doubled under me. Then I jest seen things aswimmin' all around me. Guess I fainted, for next thing was when I kim to, an' found myself groanin' bad. When I moved ever so little it nigh made me jest scream."

"How long do you suppose you've been lying here?" asked Bristles, softly, for he had been much affected by what he saw and heard.

"Mebbe hours, for all I know, Bristles. They went off jest after daylight, meanin' to take the load to Peyton, where they deals in the grocery line. Wouldn't let me do it, 'case they meant to buy the old woman a 'frock, you see. Is it near night time, now, Bristles?"

"Oh! no, the morning isn't more than half over, Tom," replied Bristles. "But how about some sort of rig we could borrow, to give you a lift to Riverport? Have the old couple taken the only outfit along. Tom?"

"I hear a horse munching hay over there somewhere," announced Colon.

"Yes, there is a critter in here," Tom admitted, with the nearest approach to a smile that had thus far come upon his wan and pain-racked face; "and under the shed stands what you might call a wagon, if you shut your eyes, an' didn't care much what you was asayin'. If old Dominick didn't keel over, and kick the bucket on the way, he might pull us ten miles or so; always providin' you give him some oats before you started him, and then kept temptin' him on the road with more of the same."

Bristles gave a shout.

"Oh! we'll fix old Dominick, never you fear, Tom. I'll look up the oats right away, and let him get busy, while the rest of you pull that wagon out of the shed, and find something in the way of harness. We don't care a red cent for looks, as long as we get there. The end justifies the means. You remember we learned that lots of times at school. Get a move on, boys; everyone to his duty!"

Thus inspired, and spurred on, the others hastened to do their part. Two of them hunted until they found the lean-to, under which a ramshackle wagon stood that excited the laughter of Colon.

"If Bristles thought the vehicle that little girl had along with her in Riverport was a terror, what'll he ever say to this?" he remarked, after he had doubled up several times in explosive merriment. "Now, if the hoss is anything like what Tom says, I c'n see what a sensation we'll kick up when we strike town. Why, they'll ring the fire bells, and get the chemical engine out to parade after us. Guess they'll think the circus has struck Riverport early this year."

Meanwhile Bristles had succeeded in discovering a small amount of oats in a bin, and he emptied a generous lot of these in the trough of the antiquated looking horse. The animal had started whinnying the instant he heard the boy moving over in that corner, where he must have known the grain was kept, though he seldom had more than a handful at a time.

It was a whole hour before they managed to get the rig fixed up. Indeed, only by the united efforts of all the boys was the bony horse dragged away from his feed trough, where he had kept munching the oats delightedly.

Then they hunted up all the old horse blankets, and empty gunny-sacks they could find about the place, and made a soft bed in the wagon. A stretcher was also improvised from some boards, and when four of them took hold they managed to carry poor Tom to the nearby vehicle, and deposit him on the sacks.

Being guided by directions which Tom gave them, they found how a road wound through the woods to the road, striking the main thoroughfare just above where they had come out on their previous trip, and with the toll-gate in sight.

"Here's where we gain something, boys," Fred told them, "and this Good Samaritan job may count in our favor next week when we make that run."

Fred had been thoughtful enough to write a little note, addressed to the owner of the wretched outfit, whose name it seemed was Ezekial Parsons. In it he explained just how they happened to find poor Tom, and that they had borrowed the rig to get him to his home, where he could have proper care.

He had also promised that the horse and wagon should be returned in due time, and hinted that his father and mother might be expected to run up and make the acquaintance of the old couple who had been so kind to Tom, although not really able to keep a hand about the place.

The man at the toll-gate stared, as well he might, when that antiquated rig came in sight, with the four boys partly bundled in faded horse blankets and gunny-sacks. The weather had not yet cleared, and the air was chilly for fellows as devoid of clothing as runners always are.

When he heard about the accident that had happened to Tom, he was loud in his praise of the action of the boys in giving up their trial spin just to get the injured boy home.

"If I had a hoss myself, I'd gladly loan him to you, boys," he told them.

"Oh! never fear but we'll be able to get there before sun-down," laughingly declared Fred, while Bristles ran around in front, and held the measure of oats close to the nose of the horse, starting him to snorting wildly, and taking a step forward in the effort to obtain the feed, kept so tantalizingly just beyond his reach.

Bristles continued backing away, and always keeping just so far in front, so that the horse was impelled to move along quite briskly. If he lagged at any time the measure was moved closer, and once Bristles even let him thrust his nose into it.

On the wagon the boys had a very merry time of it, singing, and laughing at the actions of the poor old horse.

"Please don't excite him too much, Bristles," begged Sid, "for he's likely to strain so he'll smash this beautiful harness all to flinders."

So they kept up the work, Bristles and Colon between them dancing on ahead, and tempting the animal between the shafts to renewed exertions. With that measure of oats held within smelling distance of his nose he kept plodding steadily along, and mile after mile was placed in their rear.

Once they halted, and watered old Dominick at a wayside spring, besides letting him have a delightful five-minute communion with the oat crop. Then the forward movement was begun, again, and the boy who held the measure of oats continued to dance just ahead of the deluded Dominick.

It was about two o'clock on that Saturday afternoon when a great commotion broke out in the outskirts of Riverport. Boys and girls flocked to the spot, and loud cheers rent the air. Indeed, plenty of people actually made sure that the circus must have arrived ahead of time, and as this was an event in which every citizen was supposed to be interested, since he would be compelled to take his youngsters to the show, plenty of men were in the throng that gathered.

Dogs barked, chickens set up a cackling and crowing, and there was a perfect Bedlam of sounds along the main street. Down this came that wonderful vehicle with sundry creaks and dismal groanings, as though threatening to break down at any minute. Ahead strode a boy in running costume, tempting the tired old horse to walk along by holding a peck measure under his nose, and occasionally just letting him snap up a few of the oats.

Three other fellows sat in the wagon some of them trying to keep warm by covering themselves with gunny-sacks, and all laughing, and joining in the cheers of the crowd.

Of course everybody thought it was only a boyish prank, but when they saw the old wagon draw up in front of the Flanders home, and then those four boys start to gently lift a figure out from the bed of the vehicle, the noise ceased as if by magic.

"Why, it's sure enough Tom Flanders come back home, after his folks had given him up for lost!" one good woman told a new arrival. "They do say Fred and the running boys found him up-country, where he'd broke his leg. Poor fellow, he looks that peaked and pale I reckon he's had a terrible time. And see how his maw hangs over him, like she was the happiest woman in all Riverport this day. And we all hope that Tom'll turn over a new leaf after this, and make his folks proud of him. But wasn't it fine of Fred and his friends to bring him home that way?"

And certainly, when those four lads witnessed the wild delight of that mother and father at having their only son restored to them again, as well as noted how the erring boy cried when he allowed himself to be carried into the house, none of them had the slightest reason to regret that circumstances had caused them to take refuge from the storm in that old barn standing near the trail through the woods.