CHAPTER II.
THE "BARKER" SHOWS HIS TEETH.
When Carl finally rounded up his wits he found himself sitting underthe lee of the "animal top," leaning against one of the guy ropes. Thewind was blowing half a gale, and the big tents swayed and tugged attheir fastenings. There was only one idea just then in the Dutch boy'smind, and that was this:
"How dit dot Roman gandle go off mit itseluf? I remember taking him inmy handt und holting him pehindt me, und den--whizz, bang! Ach, how dershparks dit fly! Dere vas fordy-'lefen palls in der gandle, und I hit afreak mit efery pall. Donnervetter, vat a hot time!"
At this point Ping came rounding the curved canvas wall, head to thewind, blouse and wide trousers flapping, and pulling himself along bymeans of the guy ropes.
"Hello, Clal!" he called, mooring himself to a tent stake.
"Hello yourseluf once!" answered Carl, drawing one powder-blackenedhand up and down his trousers leg. "How you like der pooty firevorks?"
"By Klismus!" grinned the Chinaman, "him velly fine. Fleaks no likee."
"How dit der gandle go off mit itseluf? Tell me dose."
Ping's grin faded from his yellow face, and he grew solemn and serious.
"No savvy, Clal. Him devil joss stick, awri'. Whoosh!"
A sudden suspicion darted through Carl's brain as he stared at Ping.The Chinese boy was altogether too serious.
"Py shiminy grickets!" whooped Carl, "vas it you dot douched him offven der gandle vas my pack pehindt und I don'd see? Dit you make allder drouples? Oof I vas sure oof dot, den I vould eat you oop like someham santviches."
Ping gave a yell of protest.
"We allee same fliends, huh?" he demanded. "Why my makee tlouble fo'fliend?"
"Vell, I don'd know for vy, aber such chokes iss nod vat I like. Oof Ifindt oudt dot you lit der gandle, den I vill ged efen for dot. You bedmy life, I pay efery debt vat I owe."
Ping looked serious. Then, glad that he was able to change the subject,he remarked:
"You losee one piecee papel in tent, Clal?"
"I don't got one piecee paper, shink. How could I lose somet'ing vat Idon't got?"
"My findee him same place you makee tumble. Look."
Ping drew the folded sheet from his blouse. Carl stretched out his hand.
"I vill take a look at dot," said he.
When opened flat, the sheet contained writing, but it was not writingthat Carl could read.
"Vedder it iss a ledder or nod," mused Carl, "I don'd know. Vat I seeon dis paper looks schust like hen dracks. It don'd vas English, und itdon'd vas German. Iss it shink wriding, Ping?"
Ping dropped to his knees and examined the sheet of paper upside downand sideways.
"My no savvy," he answered. "Him not China writing. Some fleak letteedlop--him fleak writing. Him no gottee sense."
Carl wrinkled his brows ominously.
"I tell you somet'ing," said he. "Dere iss more to dis alretty as weknow, Ping. I peen a tedectif. Meppy you vill make a tedectif, too.Subbose we findt oudt vat der ledder iss aboudt?"
"Plaps we no makee find out."
"Dot's vere der tedectif part comes in."
"Plaps we no gottee sense enough, Clal."
"_Ach, du lieber!_" grunted Carl. "Ditn't I findt dot Margaret Mannersvat vas draveling mit der show? Ditn't I get dot Ben Ali Hindoo felleron der run? Ditn't I vin fife tousant tollars?"
"You no gettee fi' thousan' dol'."
"I vill get dot. It has to come from Inchia, und Inchia iss more as tentousant miles from vere I am. It takes time to get money from Inchia. Iwas a shmard feller to do all dot. Meppy I gif you some lessons und youvill be as shmard as vat I am."
"Plaps."
"You vant to choin in mit me, hey?"
"Awri'. No savvy pidgin, Clal. What we do?"
Before Carl could answer, the "barker" for the side show came runningaround the tent wall. Carl grabbed the letter out of Ping's hand andthrust it into his pocket.
"What yuh got there?" demanded the "barker," coming to a halt andglaring at Carl.
"You don'd got some pitzness to know," was the Dutch boy's calm reply.
The "barker's" name was Bill Wily, but, on account of his shadycharacter, he was generally known as Wily Bill.
"I lost a letter durin' that shake-up in the tent," said Wily Bill,truculently, "an' it looked to me as though that sheet yuh just tuckedaway in your jeans was the one. Hand it over."
"Don'd get gay mit yourseluf," warned Carl, rising to his feet.
"Where'd yuh git that paper?"
"Dot's for me to know. Oof you get pitzness any blace else, don'd letus keep you a minid. Moof on. I don'd like you none too vell, anyhow."
"You'll give me that paper," declared Wily Bill angrily, "or I'll twistthat Dutch neck o' yours."
"Meppy you vill," answered Carl, "aber I don'd tink. Here it issdifferent as it vas in der show. You don'd got der freaks und derodders to helup."
"I'll find Burton," fumed Wily Bill, "and I'll tell him yuh've stolethat there paper off me."
"Den you vill be telling Purton vat ain'd so."
The "barker" took a step forward.
"Yuh goin' to give me that?" he shouted.
"Say," answered Carl, with a happy thought, "you tell me vat iss in derledder, den oof it agrees mit vat iss dere you prove he belong mit you,und I gif him oop. Oddervise, nod. Hey?"
"Oh, you fall off the earth!" growled Wily Bill. "I don't have to tellwhat's in the letter in order to prove it's mine, see? Fork over."
Carl had thought he might get Wily Bill to translate the "hen tracks,"but the "barker" either could not or would not.
"You und me don'd agree on dot," said Carl stoutly. "You tell me vatiss in der ledder, oder you don'd get him. Dot's all aboudt it."
"Look here," and Wily Bill made a threatening gesture with his clinchedfist, "pass that over or I'll push yer face inter yer back hair. Now,then. Cough up or take the consequences."
"I dradder fighdt as eat some meals!" whooped Carl. "Come on vonce,oof dot's der game. Hit me in der eye! Dot geds my madt oop kevickeras anyt'ing, und I fighdt pedder der madder vat I ged. Eider eye, it_machts nichts aus_. Blease!"
With a savage exclamation, Wily Bill threw himself forward and lungedwith the full force of his right. Carl ducked sideways. The fist missedhim, and the impetus of the blow hurled Wily Bill over the guy rope.
Boss Burton, the proprietor of the show, seeing the clash from adistance, was hurrying up to take a part in proceedings. He arrivedjust in time to collide with the tumbling form of the "barker."
It was with difficulty that Burton retained his footing. The breath wasknocked out of him, and as he tottered and gasped he glared at WilyBill.
"Dere iss Poss Purton," chuckled Carl. "Schust tell him vat you vantund see vat he say."
"What're you roughing things up like this for, Wily?" demanded theshowman. "You know very well I don't allow any fighting on the showgrounds."
"That Dutchman," answered the "barker," getting his temper a little inhand, "has got a letter belongin' to me. I want it, an' he won't giveit up."
"Is that so, Carl?" asked Burton, whirling on the Dutch boy.
"I don'd know vedder or nod it iss so," replied Carl. "I got a ledder,und he say it pelongs by him. Aber he von't say vat iss in der ledder,so how could I know?"
"Isn't the envelope addressed?"
"Dere iss no enfellup."
"Isn't there a name on the letter?"
"Dere iss no name anyvere."
"It's from a pal o' mine, Burton," explained Wily Bill, "and I droppedit out of my kick in the tent. This Dutch lobster and that chink turnedon a row in the side show. The Dutchman got one of the Armless Wonder'sRoman candles, and while he held it behind him the chink touched amatch to it, and we had all kinds of fireworks for a----"
"Donner und blitzen!" yelled Carl, facing Ping and shaking his fist."Den it _vas_ you, hey? I von't be no tedectif mit you! You vas no bardto blay sooch a choke! I vill ged
efen, yah, so hellup me! Oof you----"
"That will do," cut in Boss Burton sternly. "We'll settle this letterbusiness before we do anything else. Where did you get the thing, Carl?"
"Dot false-alarm chink gif him by me," answered Carl, watching angrilywhile Ping allowed the wind to waft him out of sight around theside-show tent.
"Where did he get it?"
"He picked him oop from vere I lay on der groundt. Dot's vat he say,aber my confidences in him vas padly shook."
"Give it to me."
There was no dodging such an order from the proprietor of the show, andthe folded sheet was handed over.
Burton looked at the letter. While he was doing so, Wily Bill made adesperate grab for it. The showman was too quick for the "barker," andjerked the sheet out of reach.
"That's your game, is it?" growled Burton. "Go back to your job, Wily.Come to me after the show, and we'll talk this over. I don't like theway you're acting in this matter, and if you know when you're well off,you'll put your foot on the soft pedal and keep it there. Not a word!Clear out!"
With a black scowl, and a look at Carl that boded him no good, WilyBill turned on his heel and made his way back to the side show.