CHAPTER IX.

  BLACK MAGIC.

  While the parade was passing through town, Carl had been "sleuthing."The fact that he was wearing McGlory's working clothes gave him anidea. He didn't look like himself, so why not be some one else? Allthe detective books he had ever read had a good deal to say aboutdisguises. Carl was already disguised, so he made up his mind that hewould be a dago laborer.

  After watching the parade file out of the show grounds, he slouchedover to the side-show tent. A man was just finishing lacing the pictureof a wild man to the guy ropes. Carl shuffled up to him.

  "I peen der Idaliano man," he remarked, in a wonderful combination ofDutch and Italian dialect, "und I, peen make-a der look for a leedl-agal mit der name oof Manners. Haf-a you seen-a der girl aroundt loosesome-a-veres?"

  The canvasman looked Carl over, and then, being of a grouchydisposition, and thinking Carl was trying to make fun of him, he gavehim a push that landed him against a banner containing a paintedportrait of the elastic-skin man. The banner was even more elastic thanthe image it bore on its surface, for Carl rebounded and struck oneof the "barkers," who happened to be passing with his hands full ofice-cream cones for the bearded lady and the Zulu chief.

  Disaster happened. The "barker" fell, with the Dutch "tedectif" on topof him--and the ice-cream cones in between.

  The "barker" indulged in violent language, and began using his hands.Carl was pretty good at that himself, and retaliated. Two canvasmenpulled the two apart. Carl had the contents of a cone in his hair, andthe "barker" had the contents of another down the back of his neck.

  "Where'd that ijut come from?" yelled the "barker," dancing up and downamong the broken cones.

  "Who left der cage toor oben?" cried Carl, digging at his hair. "Derpapoon vas esgaped."

  "You put up your lightning rod," growled the "barker," "or you'll githit with a large wad of electricity."

  "Come on mit it!" whooped Carl, fanning the air with his fists. "Novone can make some ice-gream freezers oudt oof me mitoudt hafingdrouples!"

  "That'll do you," snorted the canvasman who had hold of Carl, andthereupon raced him for twenty feet and gave him a shove that turnedhim head over heels across a guy rope.

  "Dot's der vay," mourned Carl, picking himself up and gathering in hishat. "Der tedectif pitzness comes by hardt knocks, und nodding else.Vere can I do some more?"

  His head felt cold and uncomfortable, even after he had mopped it drywith a red cotton handkerchief.

  He went over to the horse tent. The tent was nearly empty, all the livestock except a trick mule being in the parade. The mule would not havebeen there, but he was too tricky to trust in the procession. A manwith a red shirt, and his sleeves rolled up, sat on a bale of hay closeto the mule. The man was smoking.

  "Hello, vonce," flagged Carl.

  "Hello yourself," answered the man.

  "I peen some Idaliano mans," remarked Carl, "und I vas make-a der lookfor Markaret Manners, yes. Haf-a you seen-a der gal?"

  "Take a sneak," said the man.

  "She iss-a leedle-a gal aboudt so high, yes," and Carl put out hishand. "I peen-a der poor Idaliano man, aber I gif-a you fife tollars,py shiminy, oof-a you tell-a me where-a der gal iss."

  "You can't josh me," went on the man earnestly. "Hike, before I knockoff your block."

  Carl continued to stand his ground and ask questions; then, the nextthing he knew, the hostler had jumped up and rushed for him. Carlsprang back to get out of the way, unfortunately pushing against thehind heels of the mule. The mule knew what to do, in the circumstances,and did it with vigor.

  Carl was kicked against the man with the pipe, and that worthy turned aback somersault as neatly as any "kinker" belonging to the show.

  The Dutch boy limped hastily around the end of the horse tent andcrawled into an empty canvas wagon. The mule's heels had struck himwith the force of a battering-ram, and he felt weak up and down thesmall of the back. Besides, the wagon was a good place in which to hidefrom the hostler.

  Cautiously he watched over the wagon's side. The hostler came aroundthe side of the tent, looked in all directions, and then retired,muttering, in the direction of the bale of hay.

  Carl chuckled as he dropped down on a roll of extra canvas, but thechuckle died in a whimper as he became conscious of his sore spots.

  "I vonder how Cherlock Holmes efer lifed to do vat he dit," hemurmured, curling up on the canvas. "Der tedectif pitzness iss hit undmiss from vone end to der odder, und den I don'd get some revards.Meppy I vill shleep und forged id."

  When Carl woke up, he looked over the side of the wagon and saw aburning flying machine in the air, and he heard the wild yells of thecrowd. Probably it was the yelling that awoke him.

  "Py shinks," he cried, "dot's my bard, Modor Matt! He iss purnin' oopmit himseluf. Fire! Fire! Helup!" and Carl rolled out of the wagon andraced toward the spot where the machine seemed to be coming down.

  McGlory, white-faced but determined, was marshaling a lot of men withbuckets of water. Carl dropped in. When the machine landed, he set towith the rest and helped extinguish the flames.

  Then, after he had congratulated Matt, Carl and Ping were placed onguard.

  In spite of the fact that Carl had shaken hands with Ping, he continuedto have very little use for the Chinaman. And Ping, to judge fromappearances, had no more use for the Dutchman. They did not speak.One sat down on one side of the machine and the other sat down on theother. Then a brown man, wearing an embroidered coat and a turban,drove up on a small cage wagon drawn by one horse. He got off the wagonand stepped up to Carl.

  "How-do, sahib?" said the man.

  Carl remembered him. He was the fellow who had been dozing on Rajah'sback at the river. Also he was the man who had taken charge of the girlwho had dropped off the trapeze when the burning a?roplane came down.

  Carl had a startling thought--it flashed over him like an inspiration.

  "How you vas?" answered the Dutch boy genially.

  "You come 'long with Ben Ali," said the man.

  "Nod on your dindype," replied Carl. "I vas vatching der machine forModor Matt."

  "_You come!_" hissed Ben Ali.

  Then Carl noted something very remarkable. The Hindoo's eyes began toblaze, and dance, and show wonderful lights in their depths.

  "Shtop mit it!" said Carl. "You peen a mesmerizer, und I don'd likedot."

  Carl knew he couldn't be hypnotized against his will, but the Hindoo'seyes were working havoc with his nerves.

  "_You come!_"

  The words of Ben Ali were imperative. Carl, seemingly unable to removehis own eyes from the Hindoo's, followed as Ben Ali retreated towardthe wagon. At the end of the wagon Ben Ali made some passes with hishands in front of Carl's face, then opened the door.

  "You get in, sahib!"

  Carl climbed into the wagon mechanically. Slam went the door and clickwent a key in the padlock.

  The _Comet_ had come down from its disastrous flight at a considerabledistance from the tents. There were no people in the immediate vicinitysave Ping.

  The little Chinaman, on hands and knees under the lower wing of thea?roplane, was watching covertly all that took place.

  After locking the door of the cage wagon, Ben Ali took a cautious lookaround him. He saw no one.

  Climbing up on one of the forward wheels, he took a slouch hat and along linen duster from the seat, removed his embroidered coat and histurban, got into the hat and duster, climbed to the seat, picked up thereins, and drove off.

  Ping had seen it all, but had made no attempt to interfere. And he madeno attempt now.

  He did not like the "Dutchy boy." He was afraid Carl would take awayfrom him his job with Motor Matt.

  It was with secret rejoicing, therefore, that the Chinaman saw Carllocked in the wagon and hauled away.

  "Hoop-a-la!" chattered Ping, as he returned to his place and once morewent on watch.

  The wagon used by Ben Ali, on this momentous occasion, was te
chnicallyknown as the monkey wagon. Two of the monkeys had eaten something whichdid not agree with them, and had died in Indianapolis. The three thatremained had been taken out and put in another cage, with a collectionknown as "The Happy Family." This, of course, left the monkey wagonempty.

  Burton was figuring on using it for one of the ant-eaters, but therewere some repairs to be made before the wagon could be put to that use.The repairs dragged, and so Ben Ali found his opportunity to use thecage.

  Straight across the show grounds drove the disguised Hindoo. None ofthe employees who saw him recognized him or questioned his right to usethe monkey wagon. Different gangs had different duties, and no one knewbut that this strange driver was off to town on some important mission.

  Ben Ali drove within a hundred feet of the calliope tent. When he waswell beyond it, a yell came from inside the wagon.

  "Helup! Helup, somepody, or I vas a goner!"

  A shiver ran through Ben Ali. He made ready to leap from the wagon,but thought better of it when he saw that the call had attracted noattention and was not repeated.

  "Sahib keep still!" he called, kicking the end of the wagon with hisheels.

  And thus, with not a sound coming from the interior of the monkeywagon, the artful Hindoo adept drove into the road and headed the horseaway from the town and into the country.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels