The Rose in the Ring Part 6

David jerked his hand loose and abruptly thrust the purse into the hand of the astonished Mrs. Braddock.

"Look at it," he cried pa.s.sionately. "Open the purse. It's still in the sealed envelope, just as my father left it when he went off to the war the second time--after he was wounded. He left it with my mother for me. No one has ever opened the package. It was in my mother's trunk until she died. She wouldn't put it in a bank. My uncle Frank never knew that she had it; he doesn't know that I have it now. But it is mine. My father gave it to me when I was six years old. See what it says on the envelope. It's his own writing. 'For my son David. To be used in the acquiring of an education if I should fall in this dear, beloved cause, which now seems lost. G.o.d defend us all!' See! 'Arthur Brodalbin Jenison.' My father's signature. Here is the seal of his ring. It is my money."

Even Thomas Braddock was swayed, convinced by the eloquence of that fierce appeal. He stared at the boy, his lips apart, his cigar hanging limply from one corner of his mouth.

"By thunder!" he murmured, frankly surprised in himself. "I believe the tale, hang me if I don't!"

But David was waiting only for the verdict of the woman. Mrs. Braddock had not glanced at the envelope that she now clutched in her tense fingers; her eyes were only for the eager, chalk-colored face of the boy. Tears welled up in her warm eyes as he paused for breath.

"I believe you, too--yes, yes, my boy, we all believe you," she cried, putting out her hand to him. He s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and kissed it.

At that instant the ringmaster, white with rage, dashed in from the big tent.

"Say, what's the matter with you loafers?"

The crowd of tumblers jumped out of the trance as if shot.

"The show's been held up for ten minutes! Get in there all of you!"

Here followed a violent explosion of appropriate profanity. "The audience is gettin' wild. They'll be wantin' their money back unless the performance goes on purty blamed--"

Braddock reached the man's side in three steps. He delivered a resounding slap on the ringmaster's cheek, almost knocking him down.

The tall hat went spinning away on the ground. Tears of pain and terror flew to the fellow's eyes. He began to blubber.

"Don't you swear in the presence of my wife and daughter,--you!"

snarled Braddock, his own blasphemy ten times as venomous as the other's.

"I--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Braddock," stammered the ringmaster in great haste. If the gaping, respectful hundreds could see the despot of the ring now!

Braddock's daughter uttered a low moan of horror and amazement. Her heart swelled with pity for the poor wretch who dared not to defend himself. Ruby Noakes felt the quiver that ran through the girl's body.

She promptly led her away from the spot.

"Come with me while I change," she said quickly.

Together they pa.s.sed into the women's dressing-room. Christine's look of mute surprise and shame rested on David's face as the flap dropped behind her.

A minute later, the humiliated ringmaster, Briggs by name, was cracking his whip in the middle of the ring, mighty lord of all he surveyed, although, to his chagrin, there was no clown present to receive the attention. In those good old days the circus carried but one clown. He was the most overworked man in the ring, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that he was the solitary idol of thousands.

Grinaldi did not accompany the tumblers to the ring. The lone elephant that graced the show and the horses had been led out for the "lofty somersault men" to vault over after the run down the "spring board"; that part of the dressing-tent in which Braddock stood was now clear of humanity, except for his wife, the clown and David Jenison.

"Well, he knows I don't permit swearing in front of my daughter," said Braddock, resenting the unspoken scorn in his wife's face. "Let's see that envelope," he added roughly.

She held the coveted package behind her back, shaking her head resolutely.

"How do I know there's five hundred in it?" he demanded.

"There's more than that," said David nervously.

"How do you know? It's never been opened."

Mrs. Braddock glanced at the writing on the face of the staunch, yellow envelope. She started violently. In plain figures, in one corner, she saw: "$3,000." She realized, with a flash of shame, that it would be fatal to the boy's interests if her husband should come to know of the actual value of the package. She opened her lips to utter a word of caution to David, but he was too eager and too quick for her.

"There's three thousand dollars in it," he said.

Braddock started. For the first time he removed the chewed cigar from his lips, all the while fixedly regarding the youth with narrowing eyes. He was thinking fast and hard. Three thousand dollars!

"You are not to break this seal, David Jenison," said Mrs. Braddock firmly, her face very white. "Take it and go. It is your money, not ours."

"Hold on there," objected her husband. His befuddled brain was solving a certain problem to his own eminent satisfaction. "These officers have got to be convinced that you are not with this show. I can't afford to lie to 'em. There's only one way out of it. I can hire you under another name and you can travel with us till we get out of this part of the country. Five hundred is the reward. If I get it from you, most of it can be paid back in wages. If I turn you over to them and take their coin, I'd be doing the best thing for myself, but I'm willing to run the risk of--"

"Thomas Braddock, you are _not_ to take this boy's money," cried his wife. "It would be infamous!"

"Now, you keep out of this," he growled, fearful for his plans. "It's one or the other, Mary. Either he antes up or they do."

"I will not allow it!"

David broke in, with a rare show of dignity. "I said I would pay it, Mrs. Braddock. I can't break my word. If Mr. Braddock will send them away, I will pay the amount they offer."

"Give him the envelope, Mary," commanded Braddock.

She looked about her as if seeking means of escape with the precious package. Then, with a deep sigh, and a look of unutterable scorn for the man, she handed the envelope to David.

He broke the seal.

"Maybe it's Confederate money," said Braddock, a sudden chill in his heart. But it was not Confederate money. There was exposed to view a neat package of United States treasury notes of large denomination, brand-new and uncrumpled, just as they had come from the treasury department.

Without hesitation, young Jenison counted off five hundred dollars.

Mrs. Braddock closed her eyes in pain as he laid the notes in her husband's hand. Grinaldi turned away, suppressing the bitter imprecation that rose to his lips.

"I'll tell those scoundrels that you haven't been near the show." He did not count the money. He had counted it with greedy eyes as David told off the bills in his nervous, clumsy fingers. "Now, you lay low.

Stick close to me. Don't let anybody see much of you till we're over in Ohio. I'll guarantee to get you off safe. Don't you worry. Just lay low. I'll find work for you to do. We're headed for Indiana and Illinois. They'll never get you out there. By thunder! I've got an idea, Joey, that girl of yours is right. You _do_ need a bit of help.

We'll make a clown of him. We'll have two clowns. How is that, Mary?"

She did not reply. He looked away hastily.

"I couldn't be a clown," began David in consternation.

"Sure you can," interrupted the boss. "It's as easy as fallin' off a log. Joey can tell you all the tricks. He's the best in the world, Joey Grinaldi is. That's what I've got him for. We've got the best show in the world, too. Barnum ain't in the same cla.s.s with us. Forepaugh and Van Amberg? They are second rate aggre--But, say, I'd better go out and steer those fellows away." He started off, but stopped suddenly as if struck by a serious doubt.

"Perhaps you'd better let me take the rest of that money and put it in the safe in the ticket-wagon," he said encouragingly. "It's likely to be nipped by some of these crooks that follow the show. 'T ain't safe with you, let me tell you that."

"No!" cried his wife, her voice shrill with decision.

Braddock did not insist. He was too wise for that.

"Well, if it's stolen, don't blame me," he said. "Remember, I told you so. I don't give a d.a.m.n personally. It's your money, kid."

"I reckon I'll keep it," said David, suddenly acute. He began wrapping the string around the broken package, which he had kept sacredly inviolate for so long. "I'll stay with the show and do anything I can, if you'll only help me to get away. I--I don't want to be taken back there. Some day, I expect to go back, but not right now. I'm not afraid. But I can't go back until I've found the man that _knows_."

"There _is_ a man who--knows?" murmured Mrs. Braddock.