The Crimson Flash

  CHAPTER VI JOHNNY BOXES THE BEAR

  Johnny Thompson paced the beach up which the waves of Lake Michigan wererolling. There had been a storm, the aftermath of which was even nowcoming in. Johnny's mind was in a turmoil. He had been with the circusfive days now. Two more days they would remain in Chicago. He was stillgroom for Millie Gonzales' three grays. Millie was as impossible as ever.Three times she had struck at him with her whip, when he had appeared tooverstep his rights as her menial.

  "If she has the ring, fine chance I've got unless I steal it from her,"he grumbled.

  Allegretti, the Italian boxer, was quite as impossible as Millie. OnceJohnny had bantered him for a boxing match, but the fellow had showed allhis white teeth in a snarl as he said:

  "No box-a da bum."

  He had meant Johnny.

  Johnny's blood had boiled, but he had made no response. Only when he wasout of hearing, he had declared, "Never mind, old boy, I'll get you yet."

  But thus far he had not "got" him. The way into the good graces of Gwen,queen of the circus, seemed effectually blocked. He had not triedapproaching her, for he felt that would be folly.

  In spite of the sharply drawn lines of caste which prevailed in thecircus, life within the tented walls when the performers were off dutywas astonishingly simple. Grease paint came off at the end of the lastact. About the dressing tent and the assembly yard the women starsappeared plain and simple-minded people. There was nothing of the bravadothat Johnny had expected to find. The three girls who held the center ofhis attention, because of the ring, were wonderfully well-developedphysically. Millie was slender and quick as a cat. Mitzi von Neutin, thetrapeze performer, was also slender and strong. She was French; Johnnyknew that from the many "Mais, oui" and her "Mais, non," with which sheanswered the questions of the other performers. With her abundance ofyellow hair she was like a kitten, as she curled up on a rug in thecorner of the tent reading a French novel.

  But Gwen--Gwen was perfection itself. Not too stout, not too thin;strong, yet not masculine, she was indeed a queen. About the tent, whenoff duty, she wore a short blue skirt and a blue middy blouse open at theneck and tied with a dark red ribbon. Twice Johnny had seen her boxingwith the Italian. Each time the blood had rushed to his temples. To thinkof such a queen taking her exercise with so coarse a creature filled himwith inward rage.

  "Oh, well, he's of the caste," Johnny had grumbled. "No matter; so shallI be in time. I don't know just how, but I will."

  Pant, too, had puzzled him greatly. He had not forgotten his friend'suncanny power of seeing in the dark. He had heard of the strangeappearance and disappearance of the crimson flash in the animal tent andelsewhere, and suspected that Pant was at the bottom of it, but just whathis game was, or what strange secret of the power of light Pantpossessed, he could not guess.

  Johnny had at last succeeded in buying the five bonds which Pant hadwanted. He had obtained two of them for $39 each. These he had boughtfrom a fat, red faced man who was a guard at the entrance to the big top.He was even now waiting to deliver them to Pant.

  Presently that individual came shuffling by, and, motioning Johnny tofollow him, continued down the beach until they had found a secluded spotin a turn of a breakwater.

  "Got 'em?" Pant whispered.

  "Sure."

  "Good! Let's see!"

  "Good! Fine!" he exclaimed, after he had glanced over the bonds. "Now canyou tell me who sold you these two together?"

  "I don't know his name; a fat, red faced fellow at the entrance of thebig top."

  "Good! That's one of them. They're the right kind, I'll wager. Let'ssee!"

  Pant spread the bonds out on a broad plank.

  "No, only one!" he mused. "Getting careful, I'd say, Johnny." He turnedsuddenly. "Would you risk much for an old friend?"

  "I'd do a lot for you, Pant."

  "Thanks!" Pant gripped his hand warmly. "Take these two bonds you gotfrom that fat fellow and sell them to-morrow to some dealer in bonds onLa Salle street. You bought them for $39, did you not?"

  "Yes."

  "You should get $45. Good little gain, eh?"

  Johnny grinned. He knew Pant too well to think for a moment that he wouldengage in a small business of trading in bonds two or three at a time.What his real game was, he was unable to guess.

  "All right, old man. See you to-morrow," he said, rising and tucking thebonds away in his inner pocket. "I'll hurry back now. I think I'm goingto box the fellow who boxes the bear, though how I am to arrange it, Ican't quite tell."

  Johnny wandered back to the big top. It was late morning. Many of thecircus people would be in the big tent going through their stunts.

  His hope of finding the boxer of the bear in one of the rings was not invain. He was, at the moment of Johnny's entrance, in the act of puttingthe bear through his mock heroic battle.

  With an air of apparent indifference, Johnny leaned against a center tentpole and watched him. Allegretti hated being watched, Johnny knew. Thatwas why he lingered.

  The Italian stood his scrutiny for three minutes, then with an angryglare in his eye, he cried:

  "Go 'way, you bum!"

  Johnny's only reply was a grin.

  "Go 'way! No can box-a da bear when you all time loafin' here."

  The Italian was dancing with rage.

  "You can't box anyway, so what's the difference?" Johnny grinned again.

  "No can box?" The Italian stormed, "No can box? You wan'na see?"

  "Sure, show me," Johnny grinned.

  An extra pair of gloves lay near by. Allegretti kicked them toward him."Putta dem on. 'No can box,' he says. Allegretti show dat bum!"

  He squared away in such an awkward manner that Johnny found it hard tosuppress a smile.

  "Now where do you want me to hit you first?" Johnny asked politely.

  The answer was a volley of quick blows, which all fell upon Johnny's wellmanaged gloves.

  When the Italian paused for breath, Johnny tapped him lightly on thenose. Enraged at being so easily scored upon, the fiery foreigner fairlywent wild in his efforts to reach Johnny with a blow that would send himto the surgeon. To avoid these wild swings was child's play for Johnny.Time and again the Italian left him a wide opening, but Johnny onlyfurther enraged his opponent by tapping him lightly.

  This farce lasted for five minutes. Johnny was puzzled to know what todo. He knew that the impostor, who called himself a boxer, was completelywithin his power. By a single jab of his powerful right, he could sendhim to dreamland. This, however, was farthest from his thought. Toneedlessly injure a man was never part of Johnny's program.

  A large, low, paper-topped barrel, used in the trained dog act, stoodwithin ten feet of them. Suddenly Johnny resolved what he would do; hewould humiliate his opponent. Perhaps that would bring him to terms.

  Slowly he forced Allegretti back until he was within five feet of thebarrel when, with a quick right to the chest, he lifted him off theground and landed him square in the center of the top of the tub. Therefollowed a ripping sound, the paper burst, and Allegretti dropped fromsight.

  With a smile Johnny stood waiting the Italian's reappearance, when, tohis utter astonishment, he was struck a sledge hammer blow in the middleof the back.

  The blow sent him sprawling. In a flash he was on his feet, and facedabout to meet this new and powerful foe. Imagine his amazement when hefound himself facing, not a man but a bear. With gloved forepaws, withbroad mouth grinning, the bear stood ready for his share of the match.

  What had happened was evident. The Italian had neglected to remove thebear's gloves. The bear had now entered the ring. Johnny had a choice offacing him or running. It was a novel experience, but he was not wellacquainted with flight, so he held his ground.

  The bear advanced with none of the skill of an experienced fighter. Histraining had been superficial. He had been taught to swing his arms in acertain way when his opponent swung his as a signal. Th
e bear, however,was six times as heavy as Johnny. One fair smash in the face with thatgiant paw would send Johnny to the happy hunting grounds.

  As Johnny squared back, with his guard high, the bear hesitated, aquizzical, almost human grin overspreading his face. Then, seeming to geta signal to rush in, he came plowing forward, striking straight out as headvanced. Johnny sidestepped, and, leaping off his toes, tapped him onthe ear. It was a stinging blow. Bruin's ears were sensitive. That blowcame near proving the undoing of Johnny, for instantly flying into arage, the bear forgot his training. Dropping on all fours, he rushed atJohnny with the fierceness of his forest ancestors. Dodging this way andthat, Johnny sought to get in a felling blow, but in vain.

  Again the bear reared upon his hind legs. So quickly was thisaccomplished Johnny did not escape the grappling swing which, openhanded, the bear let fly. The animal's stubby claws raked his face,leaving three livid lines of red. The matter was growing serious.Something must be done quickly. Johnny did it. Watching for an opening,he at last leaped high and forward. His arm went up in one of his short,lightning master blows. There was the sound as of a steel trap sprung.The bear whirled in a circle, then crumpled to earth.

  "There's your bear," panted Johnny, wiping his face.

  "No box-a da bear," groaned the grief stricken Italian.

  "I should say not," said Johnny. "He doesn't box fair. He scratches."

  "You kill-a da bear. I get-a your goat."

  "Oh! The bear'll be all right," grinned Johnny. "Just give him a lump ofsugar and a sniff of smelling salts. He's a bit dizzy, that's all."

  "But say!" he said after a moment. "You can't get my goat. I ain't gotany. But I have a notion that I've got yours right now."

  He had, but the Italian wasn't to know it until some hours later.

  As he turned to walk away, Johnny noticed a well built, wholesome lookinggirl in short skirt and middy standing a short distance off. She waslooking his way and smiling. It was Gwen, the queen. He wanted to go overand speak to her. He was sure she had seen all that had happened.

  "Can't afford to rush things too fast," he whispered to himself and,turning toward the bunk tent, he hastened away.

  As an hour and a half remained before he must go on duty, Johnny slickedup a bit and went over to La Salle street to sell the bonds which Panthad entrusted to his care. The first two dealers he approached refused tobuy; they did not purchase bonds in such small lots. The third lookedJohnny over carefully, then examined the bonds. After that, he wet thetip of his right forefinger on a sponge and proceeded to count out ahandful of bills. These, with some small change, he shoved beneath thelattice to Johnny.

  "Fine day," he smiled, as he turned away.

  "You bet," Johnny agreed, as he pocketed the money.

  Out on the shore of the lake he found Pant.

  The latter stared at him for a moment in silence. He was looking at thethree red lines drawn on Johnny's face by the bear.

  "Say," he whispered at last, "give me those bonds!"

  "I, I," Johnny stared, "I haven't got them!"

  "Haven't got them? Where are they?"

  "Sold 'em as you said to do."

  "Sold them? When?"

  "Half an hour ago."

  "With that on your face?"

  "Sure."

  With a low whistle, Pant sank down upon the sand.

  "Why, what's wrong?" demanded Johnny.

  "Oh! Nothing much. One of those bonds was a counterfeit, that's all."

  "Counterfeit?"

  "I said it."

  "And you sent me to sell it?"

  "I suppose I should have told you. You'd have done it just the same.Anyway, you would have, had I told you everything. But if I had told you,that would have made you nervous and spoiled everything. I'm a markedman. I couldn't go myself. How was I to know that you'd go and getbranded in that fashion?

  "Ho, well," he continued after a moment's reflection, "it's all right,I'm sure. The bond was perfect except for one trifling detail. It was ashade lighter print than those made by Uncle Sam, and, after all, that'sreally nothing. Who knows but the Government printer failed to ink hisrollers well some morning? I know it was a counterfeit, though."

  He bent over and wrote a name in the sand, then quickly erased it.

  Johnny had read it. "Who's Black McCree?" he asked promptly.

  "He," Pant whispered, "is the slickest forger that ever lived, and theworst crook. We're going to get him, you and I, Johnny. And he's with thecircus."

  "Did--did you ever see him?" Johnny demanded.

  "I can't be sure. Perhaps. But we will, Johnny, we will!"

  For a moment they sat there in silence; then Johnny arose and without aword, walked away.