Freddy and the Perilous Adventure (10 page)

They went on up through the woods. It was pretty hot, and Freddy had to sit down several times and cool off. The mice in his pockets kept wriggling around, and pulling themselves up and trying to see out; and every time they wriggled Freddy wriggled too, for they tickled. And at last he said: “You boys come out of there and get up on the brim of my hat. It's bad enough being tickled any time, but when you're hot and sticky, it's awful.” So they did.

They came to the rim of the valley and started down across the fields towards the road. And they had almost reached it when up the road they heard a
Brrrrrr
, and saw two dots which got bigger and bigger and—“Get down in the grass, Jinx,” said Freddy sharply, and he lifted his arms and held them out stiffly and stood motionless.

The two troopers came buzzing along on their motorcycles, but when they saw Freddy they stopped.

“Funny thing,” said Bill, “but that looks like that scarecrow over at Beans'.”

“Funny to see two with such grand clothes,” said Wes. “Folks must have been pretty dressy around here in the old days.”

Bill started to walk over for a closer look, but there was a deep ditch with water in it between him and the field, and he stopped.

“You know,” said Wes, “to me a plug hat is like a red rag to a bull. When I was a kid—”

“Bet you a quarter I can knock it off first,” said Bill, picking up a rock.

“Your first shot,” said Wes.

But just as Bill raised his arm, he dropped it again and said: “Hey!” in a startled voice. For Eek and Quik and Eeny and Cousin Augustus had jumped off the hat brim into the grass.

“Looked like mice,” said Wes. “What do you suppose—”

“Let's go over and see,” said Bill.

Freddy knew that something had to be done, and done quickly. So all at once he dropped his arms. “Don't you come over here!” he shouted. “Don't you come near this place.”

“Doggone!” said Bill. “It's alive!”

“Who are you, and what are you doing there?” demanded Wes in his most official voice.

“I'm out here makin' my livin', that's what I'm doing,” said Freddy angrily, “and what business is it of policemen to throw rocks at me, I should like to know. Going about my lawful business, I am, and it's your duty to protect me, not throw things at me. Wait until I report this to your commanding officer, my lads, and see what
he
says.”

The troopers glanced at each other. After all, throwing stones, even at a scarecrow, wasn't part of their duty, and if they were throwing them at a man, and the matter was reported to the lieutenant—well, it wouldn't be any help towards promotion.

“We're sorry,” said Bill. “We thought you were a scarecrow.”

“A scarecrow!” yelled Freddy. “Me—a scarecrow? By George, young man, I'll see you punished for that kind of insulting talk if I have to carry the matter to Albany. Fine guardians of the peace, you are! Calling names; throwing rocks—”

“Excuse me, mister,” said Wes. “We really didn't mean anything against you. But you were standing out there with your arms apart, and not moving—”

“
Course
I'm not moving,” said the pig. “How can I catch 'em if I move?”

“Catch what?” asked Bill.

“Mice. I'm a professional catcher and trainer of mice. Put crumbs on my hat, come out and stand still, mice get on hat for crumbs, I scoop 'em into my pocket, take 'em home and train 'em. Anything illegal about that?”

“No, no,” said Bill soothingly. “It's a new occupation to me, but as far as I can see, no harm in it if you like it.”

“And I hope,” said Wes, “that you'll reconsider about reporting us. A report like that—”

“I can tell you one thing, my lad,” said Freddy; “you'll be reported if you give me any more of your talk. Get along, and we'll say no more about it. But keep this up another minute or two—” The balance of his remarks was lost in the roar of the motorcycles as the troopers kicked them into action.

“Wow!” said Freddy. “Now I
have
got to sit down and cool off!”

Chapter 10

The tents of Boomschmidt's Colossal and Unparalleled Circus had been pitched in the fair grounds just west of the village of South Pharisee. Freddy and Jinx saw the flags flying a long way off, and then as they came closer they saw the big tent with the little tents around it, and the red and gold wagons, and the crowds of people. They went up to the gate where, in a little booth, an ostrich was taking tickets.

There was one thing about Mr. Boomschmidt's circus that was different from every other circus, and that was that the animals weren't kept locked up in their cages, but were allowed to mingle with the customers, and even did a good deal of the work usually done by attendants. Naturally at first people were inclined to be a little nervous when they were shown to their seats by a hippopotamus, or when they went into a sideshow and found a full grown tiger looking over their shoulder. But as the Boomschmidt show came back to the same towns year after year, they got used to it and began to like it. And when mothers saw their children being chased by a leopard or a hyena, they didn't scream and carry on, but just smiled happily and said: “What fun they have, to be sure!” It was a very good arrangement all around.

Freddy and Jinx got in line and moved up to the gate.

“Hello, Oscar. How are you?” said Freddy.

But the ostrich just looked at him and said: “Tickets, please.”

Freddy took off his hat. “Remember me now? I'm—”

“If you haven't tickets,” said the ostrich in a snippy voice, “kindly stand to one side.”

Some of the people giggled, and a woman behind Freddy said: “Oh, move on; we can't stand here all day!”

“But I want to see Mr. Boomschmidt,” Freddy persisted. “I'm a friend of his. I'm Freddy, the pig that—”

“I see you're a pig,” said Oscar, “but Mr. Boomschmidt isn't hiring any more talent. We have all the trained animals we need for the show. Now kindly step aside or I shall have to use force.”

Freddy was a good deal embarrassed at being obliged to hold up the line, and he was about to step aside and try one of the other entrances, when Jinx, who had been getting madder and madder, suddenly stuck his face into the ticket window.

“Oh,” he said, “so you want to pretend you don't remember us, hey? Well, it's all right with us. Why anybody'd want to know an overgrown biped with his knees turned backwards and a length of garden hose for a neck I don't know. But you let us in to the boss, or I'll come through this window and take those plumes of yours to trim my friend's hat!”

“Well, really!” said the ostrich, and he started out of the booth.

“Come on,” said Freddy, taking hold of Jinx' paw. For an ostrich can kick as hard as a mule. But at that moment a large lion came bounding up.

“What's going on here?” he demanded.

“These—these persons,” said Oscar, “are trying to force their way in without tickets. I was about to—”

“Well, dye my hair!” roared the lion suddenly. “It's Freddy and Jinx! Why this makes the day perfect!” And he put his paws around Freddy's neck and hugged him.

Then he pushed the pig back and looked at him. “What makes you squeak like that?”

“'Tisn't me,” said Freddy, picking up the hat which had fallen off; “it's the mice in my pockets. You were suffocating them.”

“Oh, sorry,” said the lion. “Hello, boys,” he said to the mice, who stuck their heads out and waved to him. “And Jinx,” he added, shaking hands with the cat. “My, won't the boss be glad to see you!” He turned to Oscar. “No tickets, hey, you ninny? Of course they haven't tickets. You know them as well as I do, and you know we wouldn't take tickets from them if they had them. You ought to be ashamed, ostrich. You're getting so stuck up that sometimes I wonder if you'll even talk to yourself!

“I'm glad you've come,” the lion said as he led them across towards the big tent. “The boss is kind of low, and maybe you can cheer him up. Attendance hasn't been nearly as good as usual this year, and he was planning to pep it up with a balloon ascension, but the fellow lost his balloon. Can you beat it? I should think a balloon would be about the last thing anybody could lose.”

“That's partly what I want to see him about,” said Freddy. “I think I can fix that up.”

“Trust you,” said the lion. “I bet you've got something up your sleeve. Something besides mice, that is,” he added, nudging the pig in the ribs.

They found Mr. Boomschmidt out back of the big tent, inspecting what appeared to be a huge cannon. He was a short round man in a suit of large bright checks and a silk hat, which he wore on the back of his head.

“Hey, chief! Company!” called the lion.

Mr. Boomschmidt looked up, and then hurried over to meet them with his hand outstretched. “Jinx!” he exclaimed. “Well, this
is
a pleasure! And this other gentleman—No, no, don't tell me. Why, upon my soul! It's Freddy. In disguise, of course. Detecting somebody, I suppose. Well, I should never have known you, Freddy.”

“You did know him though, chief,” said the lion.

“Eh?” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “Of course I knew him. What I meant was: if I hadn't, I wouldn't have. Don't be so technical, Leo. My goodness, you two have come at just the right moment. Tell them that they have come at just the right moment, Leo.”

“The boss means that maybe you can think of something to do with this cannon,” said Leo. “We got it a couple of years ago, and every performance Bill Wonks used to get into it and be shot out into a net. But last Thursday when the boss loaded it, he got too much powder in, and it shot Bill right over the big tent and into the window of a house across the road. There was a woman doing her washing in the house, and Bill landed in a tub of hot suds. He was kind of mad about it.”

“I don't exactly blame him,” said Jinx.

“He was clean for once, anyway,” said Leo. “But he won't do it any more, and we can't get any more volunteers.”

“Why do you have to shoot anybody out of the gun?” asked Freddy. “You've got a good enough show without that.”

“That's just the point,” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “You see, our show is mostly animal acts, but animal acts isn't enough. We've got to have at least one act that is dangerous—or at least looks that way. I don't know why it is, but if folks think somebody's maybe going to get chewed up by a lion or fall off a trapeze and break his leg, they'll fill every seat in the big tent. My goodness, why is that, Leo? No, never mind; don't tell me; I want to finish what I was saying. Oh dear, where was I?”

“You have to have one dangerous act,” prompted Jinx.

“Oh yes, of course. Well, you see, we can't make our lion taming act, for instance, look dangerous, because no matter how much Leo here roars, he can't scare folks that call him by his first name and maybe had him over to supper the night before. So that's why we got the gun.”

“They have to call me by my first name,” put in Leo, “because that's all I've got.”

“My goodness, so it is!” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “Why Leo, why did I never think of that before? We must get a last name for you right away. It's a dreadful oversight. How could people write letters to you, or—” He stopped. “There, now I've lost my place again,” he said.

“I wish you wouldn't keep getting me off the track, Leo.” He pushed his hat back and scratched the front of his head thoughtfully, and then he pushed the hat forward and scratched the back of his head, and then he said: “Oh, yes; the gun, wasn't it? Well, when Bill struck, I had to find something else to look dangerous, and I hired a man named Golcher to go up in a balloon. But my goodness, then it turns out he hasn't a balloon. So then I tried to get some volunteers to be shot out of the gun. And that was a funny thing, and I don't know quite how to explain it: we had nine volunteers, but every one of them was an elephant or a rhino or some animal too big to go into the gun at all. And none of the animals who were small enough volunteered at all. My goodness, how do you explain that? Are big animals braver than little animals, or—”