CHAPTER VII NO BOX-A DA BEAR
There was one particular part of the show that afternoon which Johnny wasanxious to see. So anxious was he, indeed, that even the danger andmystery connected with the sale of the counterfeit Liberty Bonds werecrowded from his mind. So intent was he upon seeing it, that he halfneglected his duties, and received for the first time, directly upon hischeek, a sharp cut from Millie's whip. Even that failed to make himangry. Once Millie's act was over, and he had rushed the dapple grays totheir stable, he dashed out of the horse tent, through the assemblygrounds, under the canvas wall of the big top and found himself at lastbeneath the bleachers in a very good position to see what was going on inthe ring to the south of the center.
He breathed a sigh of satisfaction, as he saw the swarthy Italian bearboxer, dressed in his green suit, come marching pompously down thesawdust trail toward the ring. The lumbering silver tip bear was at hisheels.
The first part of their performance, the ball rolling, the stilt walkingand bicycle riding, went off very well. The expectant smile on Johnny'sgenial face was beginning to fade when finally boxing gloves wereproduced, and thrust upon the fore paws of the waiting bear.
Johnny's smile broadened. A wild look in the bear's eyes told him thatsomething was about to happen.
It did happen, and that with lightninglike rapidity. No sooner had thebear felt the gloves upon his paws than, without waiting for signals, helet drive a tremendous right swing at the trainer's head. He missed bybut a fraction of an inch.
"Zowie! What a wallop," whispered Johnny. "He hasn't forgotten. I thoughthe wouldn't."
Indeed, the bear had not forgotten the punishment he had received earlierin the day and, whether or not he had the intelligence to know thatAllegretti was no match for him, he had at least resolved to demolish himas speedily as possible, for hardly had the Italian recovered from hissurprise when a second blow aimed at his chest sent him sprawling.
Leaping to his feet, the trainer waved his arms in frantic signals. Itwas of no avail. The bear had known the taste of victory. He was not tobe signaled.
Straight at his trainer he rushed. The Italian uttered a shout of terror,then, closely followed by the bear, bolted from the ring.
The spectators, thinking this was a part of the play, howled and screamedas they rocked with laughter.
To the Italian it was tragedy. Had not the bear grown fat in idleness,and so impaired his running power, the affair might have endedunfortunately for Allegretti.
As it was, having pursued his trainer halfway down the length of thetent, the bear paused, rose on his haunches, tore a glove from his pawand aimed it with such force and accuracy at the trainer's back that itsent him clawing in the dust.
With one more yell, Allegretti rose and continued his flight. The secondglove missed its mark. With mouth open, seemingly in a broad grin, thebear's gaze swept the circle of delighted spectators, then, appearing toforget all about the incident, he dropped on all fours, and allowed anattendant to lead him quietly away.
Johnny ducked for the assembly enclosure. There he found the Italianwaving his arms before the manager.
"No box-a da bear! No box-a da bear!" shouted Allegretti.
"No, I'd say you didn't," smiled the manager. "But you did better thanthat. You put on a scream; you made 'em laugh their heads off. Do thatevery day and I'll double your pay!"
"What!" demanded the outraged trainer. "Do dat again! Not for five time,not for ten time my pay. He want-a keel me, dat-a bear. No box-a da bear.No more box-a dat-a bear."
No amount of argument could make Allegretti change his mind. He wasscared white. Johnny and the bear had got his goat. He was through. Hewould never box the bear again.
"Well," said the manager, turning to Johnny, at last, "I guess it's up toyou!"
"Up to me? How?" gasped Johnny.
"You crabbed the Italian's act by boxing the bear. Now you'll have tobecome a professional bear boxer, and box him yourself. See?"
"No, I don't see," said Johnny stoutly. "Why, I don't even know thesignals."
"Make up some of your own. Pete Treco, the tumbler, used to be a bearboxer. He can help you. We'll be out of Chicago in three days. I'll giveyou till then to get in form. What say?"
"I--I'll try," said Johnny.
"That's all anybody can do. And say, if you can get him to pull thatstunt, chasing you, throwing the glove and all that, the double pay offerstands."
Johnny caught his breath. His opportunity had come. There had come ashake-up. In three days there would be another, and he would be "shakenup" to the position of a full-fledged performer, or he would be shakendown out of the circus altogether. Could he make it?
Closing his fists tight, he gritted between his teeth:
"By all that's good, I will!"
Fiery and high tempered Millie lost her groom that very day.
As far as the circus people were concerned, Johnny Thompson vanished. Ina small tented enclosure, eight hours out of every twenty-four were spentin strenuous attempts to teach that bear to do his bidding. It was adifficult task. More times than one he barely dodged a sudden swing ofthat powerful paw, which if it had landed would have increased the demandfor cut flowers and slow music.
Pant alone saw him, and that after the shadows had fallen. It was at suchtimes that they talked long of those other days in Arctic Siberia.
"Pant," Johnny shot at his friend one night, "what are you here for?"
"Same back to you," smiled Pant. "What are you here for? You're not acircus man. What interest can you have in learning to box a bear?"
"It's deeper than that," smiled Johnny. "It's a matter of honor. Thereare three girls in that circus I must get on speaking terms with. Theonly way to do that is to become a performer."
"Oh! It's a skirt!"
"Not exactly--only a diamond ring."
"A ring?"
"Yes, listen," and Johnny proceeded to tell his story.
"That's interesting," said Pant, "and I think I can help you. In fact, Ithink I am safe in promising to tell you in time which of the three girlshas the ring."
"You tell me? How?"
"Leave that to me. I have ways of finding things out. It can't be donehere, though; on the road, perhaps, or at a one-night stand. Wait andsee.
"And now," continued Pant, "I want you to promise to help me with my ownmystery. It is a much deeper and far more important affair. You know thetype of people that follow the circus?"
Johnny nodded.
"Well, mixed with these little crooks is a big one--a forger, a mastercounterfeiter. His work is so good, as you know yourself, that it can bepassed on La Salle street, and that's going some. I have several samplesof his work. I know they are counterfeits, yet there is not a defectexcept the slight lack of color. They are technically perfect. One wouldalmost say they were photographs of the real thing. These bonds are beingsecretly passed out even here in Chicago. When we get out into the safersmall cities, I have no doubt the state will be flooded with them. It'san easy game. You know how they work it: Circus employee has a bond hehas been saving, money all gone, must sell at a sacrifice. Greedy rubessnatch them up. And the worst of it is, they are so perfect that only incases where two of the same number chance to come together will they bedetected. With the vast number of genuine bonds in the country, this islikely never to happen. So there you are. Why, I doubt if even theTreasury Department itself could detect them. And this Black McCree is atthe bottom of it all."
"How do you know that?" Johnny bent forward eagerly.
Pant smiled. "He has a foolish habit of scrawling his name about. He madethe mistake of scribbling it on one of the bonds which later came into myhands. He's known to the police the country over, not so much ascounterfeiter, however, as a 'Red'--a dynamiter of the worst type. He hasmore than once left his scribbled name above a ghastly piece of work.That is all they know of him. He has never been identified. Just why hehas decided to take u
p the life of a sane crook and enter the forginggame, I can't tell unless--by George! I believe I have it! Yes, sir! It'sa financial plot!"
"How's that?" Johnny asked.
"Can't you see? Our country is deeply in debt. Every town and city isflooded with national credit slips in the form of Liberty Bonds. Anation's credit is its life. Now, if some slick fellow can fill thesafety boxes of the land with bogus bonds, what is to become of thecountry's credit? In time government bonds cannot be sold at any price,for the would-be purchaser cannot tell whether he is buying a genuinebond or a counterfeit."
"I see," breathed Johnny.
"And yet," mused Pant, "it may not be a plot, after all. Perhaps thisBlack McCree thinks he has discovered a way to get rich quick, and hasdropped his radical notions. They mostly drop them when they fall heir toa piece of money. But, anyway," he straightened up with a jerk, "we'vegot to get him."
"What's he like?" asked Johnny.
"That's what no one knows. He's never been seen. He may be large orsmall. He may be, for instance, a certain husky conman with a raggedear."
"The very chap," exclaimed Johnny. "He's a crook, all right. I caught himin a crooked deal the other day. We had a little boxing match."
"You can't be sure he's the man," smiled Pant. "Small crooks seldom dobig jobs, and big crooks don't operate con games. Yet he'll bearwatching. He may be doing that as a blind.
"There's another fellow, though," Pant went on, "a midget clown--TomStick, a queer little chap. He's the prize of the circus. Dresses like amosquito, and drives a huge elephant around the ring. Strange part abouthim is, he insists on living all by himself in a little house built onwheels. Far as I know, no one has ever been allowed inside that house ofhis. You see the chance, don't you? He could have all kinds of an outfitin there, and no one would be the wiser. Of course, he wouldn't sell manybonds himself; he'd pass 'em out through others.
"There's a third fellow, a cook, the steam kettle cook, Andy McQueen.Don't know so much about him. What I want you to do is to get acquaintedwith these men and see what you can find out. You're on the inside, soyou can do it. There's another fellow, he's--"
At that juncture the conversation was ended by the appearance of a partyrounding a sand pile, and Johnny hastened back to the tented grounds.
"I'm crazy to get in my first performance," he told himself. "If it'ssuccessful, it'll put me on even ground with Gwen, the Queen. Then we'llsee what we shall see. She looks mighty interesting, to say the least."