The White Elephant Mystery Part 5

"Jeepers!" Djuna said and he gazed at her with new respect. "Do-do they call the horses rosinbacks?"

"That's right, too," Joy said. "If you'd ever seen a circus you would have noticed that the bareback riders always ride on white or dapple-gray horses. That's so the rosin they sprinkle on the horses' backs, so we won't lose our footing, won't show. Powdered rosin is white, you see."

"I see," Djuna said. "Are you going to ride this afternoon?"

"Yes," she said. "Are you going to the show?"

"Golly, I should say I am!" said Djuna with no little conviction.

"Well, I'll do a special trick I've been practicing, just for you," she told him and she gave him her nicest smile.

"Golly me," Djuna said stoutly. "I'd like to see anyone keep me away!"

Socker, who had been listening to s.n.a.t.c.hes of their conversation, leaned forward now and said, "Joy has more circus genius in her little finger than most of the performers have in a lifetime, Djuna."

"Why, Socker, how you talk!" Joy said and she blushed very prettily.

"There are a lot of other nice things I'd like to tell him," Socker said quite seriously, "but perhaps I'd better let it ride."

"Yes, let it ride until after I get through riding," Joy said with a twinkle in her eyes. "You know, Socker, you'd make a great press agent."

"For you I would," Socker said in such a way that even Djuna could tell that Socker meant just what he said.

But Djuna forgot all about Socker and Joy Maybeck as he happened to glance at a table, like the one at which he was sitting, about thirty feet away.

He stared and his eyes almost crossed because they opened so wide. Tommy, who happened to glance at Djuna at that moment, followed his gaze and his eyes popped open, too, as wide as saucers.

They saw what the billboards had called "the beautiful Circa.s.sian snake charmer" sitting at the head of the table-and around her neck was wound a baby python. At first they thought it wasn't real. But when it moved its head and slid out its red needlelike tongue they knew it was real. The beautiful Circa.s.sian snake charmer said something to the snake and it put its head down again. She went on eating her dinner.

When they could take their eyes off the beautiful snake charmer and her snake, and her gold earrings, they saw that beside her sat a woman who was so fat that she took up three chairs; beside the fat woman was a man who was so thin that he didn't even cover one chair.

Beside the thin man were eight or ten men and women that the posters had called "Ubangis." They had black skins. Wooden disks had been inserted into their lips in childhood; and as the lips grew over them, new disks-gradually increasing in diameter until the lips were now nearly eight inches wide. This made them look like ducks with huge bills. Their lips didn't seem to affect their appet.i.tes, as they were eating with great gusto and paying no attention to the other side-show people around them.

Next to the Ubangis was a bearded woman-the same one they had seen with the giant on the circus grounds. He was sitting beside her now, towering far above her.

There were dog-faced boys, three-legged men, four-legged women, "missing links," Siamese twins, India-rubber men, a sword-swallower who pretended to be swallowing his fork all the time, and a giraffe-necked woman, to say nothing of a man who was tattooed from head to foot.

"Are-are they," Djuna whispered to Spitfire who was sitting next to him, "what the billboards call the MASTERPIECES OF ALL CREATION'S WILDEST WHIMS?"

"Them's they!" Spitfire said with a laugh. "They don't seem to have affected your appet.i.te."

"Jeepers, they didn't," Djuna said. "Do-do they act like regular people?"

"Oh, sure," said Spitfire. "After the performance this afternoon I'll take you round and introduce you to some of them. But don't let them hear you call them 'freaks.' They have a great deal of pride and like to be called 'artists.'"

"Golly, I wouldn't call 'em anything," said Djuna. "I'd be afraid to."

"You don't have to be afraid of them," Spitfire said. "They're all harmless."

From outside the chow tent Djuna heard a man beginning to chant, and, as he began, all of the side-show people got up from the table and disappeared as though by magic.

Djuna listened and heard a barker shouting: "Now-w-w-w-w-w, Ladies and Gentlemen-n-n-n, there are yet fortay-y-y-five minutes before the big show begins. Fortay-y-y-five minutes. A long time to wait, Ladies-s-s-s and Gentlemen. So we have arranged for your benefit a special exhibition in the Grand Annex and a Museum of Living Curiosities to delight the eye, please the brain and sharpen the intellect. If you will just step a bit closer-r-r-r-r-r!

"I have brought out before you, Ladies-s-s-s and Gentlemen, a few of the strange and curious-s-s-s people who go to make up this museum of wonders. Starting at the right: Bong-Bong, the Mule-Faced Boy ..."

The voice became indistinct because of the clatter of dishes in the chow tent, and Djuna and Tommy began to fidget because they wanted to get outside and see everything that was going on, but Socker seemed quite content to sit there and talk to Joy Maybeck as long as he could.

Finally Spitfire and Trixie Cella, his wife, and Joy got up, saying they had to get into their costumes. "We'll see you after the show," Spitfire said to Socker.

"I'm going to see the show again this afternoon," Socker said. "I want to see you leap, and I want to see that special act Joy is going to put on for Djuna."

"We can stand it if you can, big boy," Spitfire laughed- and he flipped a hand in farewell.

"There is," Socker said to Djuna after they had gone, "something else I want to see, too."

Djuna looked at him with questioning eyes-but Socker only winked at him and said, "Come on. Let's grab off a box seat right under Spitfire's rig."

"Say, Socker," Djuna said, "is that midget clown's real name Merry Andrews?"

"No," Socker said. "His real name is Joe Casey. They call all clowns merry-andrews. I don't know just where it came from. He's a nice fellow. He and Spitfire and Trixie and Joy Maybeck are great pals. As a matter of fact, from what I've learned, they were all great favorites of old man Grant before he died. Spitfire was an a.s.sistant manager of the whole circus, and Merry Andrews had something to do with the management of the side show."

"And did Sonny Grant take the jobs away from them when he took over the circus?" Djuna asked.

"From what I've heard," Socker said. "None of them get on too well with Sonny."

"Oh, I see," Djuna said, but he didn't "see" at all.

"I'm going to keep an eye open out here while you take Djuna and Tommy inside," Cannonball said to Socker.

"Okay, we'll see you after the show," said Socker. "What about taking a peek at the menagerie as we go in?" he added.

"Oh sure," Tommy said eagerly. "We only saw the elephants this morning."

The first animal they came to inside the menagerie tent was a yak, from Tibet. It had a beard that reached from its chin to its feet, and when Socker saw it he began to laugh and said: "Look at its keeper. He has a beard, too. Spitfire told me about this yak. When they first got it it wouldn't eat or anything. Wouldn't pay attention to anyone until one day the bearded lady came and fed it some peanuts. It followed her from one side of its cage to the other and ate all the peanuts she would give him. Merry Andrews saw the bearded lady feeding the yak and suggested to the superintendent of the menagerie that he get a bearded man for an attendant for the yak. He did; and the yak has been happy ever since."

"Is that true?" Tommy asked with a wide grin.

"Swallow my gum and hope to die!" said Socker.

In the next cage was an enormous chimpanzee who stood more than seven feet tall, with his hands over his head. He was so strong that they had a three-ton lunge chain constantly around his neck to check him if he ever became savage. Actually, he was even-tempered and playful. But Socker had learned some of his tricks from his trainer-and when they stopped in front of him, the big chimpanzee was gazing contentedly out at the crowds until Socker said, "All right, Angel! Big mouth!"

The big chimpanzee leaped to his hind legs and made a horrible face, showing his yellow fangs. His eyes became mere slits, and from his heavily muscled throat came a deep, menacing growl.

"Angel! Go mad!" Socker cried.

Both Djuna and Tommy jumped backward as Angel started to leap about his cage, screaming and shrilling, pounding the floor and the roof, rocking the large, steel-barred structure, biting and tearing at anything in his way. He was a perfect specimen of a mad animal.

"Okay, Angel!" Socker shouted.

The chimpanzee sat down suddenly, and this time when the skin furled back from his yellow teeth it looked as though he were laughing.

"Good boy, Angel!" Socker said and the chimpanzee put a hand through the bars of his cage and shook hands with Socker.

"Chattering chimps!" Tommy said in amazement. "I thought he was going to tear everything in Riverton apart! And it was just an act? I mean, he was just pretending?"

"Sure," Socker said. "There's a lion down here that will do that, too. It puts on an act the same way, hissing and growling and leaping at his trainer. Then, in the side show, it plays like a kitten with the trainer and even lets him put his head in its mouth."

"I don't see how they ever train them to do things like that," Tommy said. "I should think-"

"Excuse me, sir," a man in an usher's cap said to Socker, "but have you a big bill that you would care to exchange for smaller ones? You see-"

Socker listnd to the man for a second or two and then pretended that his attention had been diverted as he looked down at Djuna and Tommy. He half-turned his back to the man who had spoken to him and said, softly, "Cannonball will be up near the chow tent. Get him!"

Djuna didn't ask any questions. He studied Socker's expression for a split fraction of a second and then he whirled and started to run toward the exit with Tommy right behind him.

"Excuse me!" Socker said as he turned back to the man who had spoken to him. "I just remembered my wife wanted me to bring home a colored balloon. She's sickly, so I sent my boy out to get one while I remembered it."

"That's all right," the man in the usher's hat said. "I just wondered if you had a couple of big bills that you would care to exchange for smaller ones? You see we get so many little ones that it makes it pretty hard to carry them."

"Why, sure," Socker said, and he reached in his inside pocket for his wallet. He pulled it out and scowled as he looked in it. "Here's a couple o' twenties. Will they do?"

"They'll do fine," the man said and reached into his own pocket and brought forth a big handful of crumpled bills. He very carefully counted them out and then handed some to Socker, saying, "There's forty dollars. Thank you very much."

Socker as carefully counted the bills himself, with the man's eyes on him; and when he got through he said, "You only gave me thirty-nine dollars. A ten, two fives, and nineteen ones. See?"

"You're sure?" the man in the usher's cap said. "Let me count 'em again." He took the bills and counted them again and when he had finished he said, "By cracky, you're right. I'm terribly sorry!"

He added a dollar bill to the ones he held and counted them into Socker's hand again. "Thirty-nine, forty. Right?" he asked.

A large, powerful hand dropped on the collar of the man's coat as Socker stood in front of him with the money still in his hand. "Count it, Socker," Cannonball McGinnty said as he tightened his grip on the man's collar. "You're probably short a ten and a five this time."

Socker counted the money very carefully this time and when he had finished he said, "Just a ten. I now believe the hand is quicker than the eye."

Cannonball's other hand stabbed downward and grabbed at the closed fist of the man he was holding. He twisted and with a howl of pain the man opened his hand. A wadded ten dollar bill dropped to the ground.

"That'll do it!" Socker said to Cannonball. "Let's take him over to your substation in Riverton. I'll put a charge against him, and maybe we can make him talk."

"He'll talk, or else!" Cannonball growled. "He-"

"Is he a grifter, Mr. Furlong?" Tommy wanted to know.

"That's just what he is," Socker said, "and before we get through with him maybe we'll know what cooks around here. You kids go on into the big show. I'll join you later. Get seats in the front, right below Spitfire's rig, and I'll find you."

"Okay, Socker," Djuna said as Cannonball and Socker moved away, with the tricky-looking man wearing the usher's cap between them.

Chapter Five.

The Leap of Death

The circus band was playing Liszt's "First Hungarian Rhapsody" to end the preliminary concert before the main performance, when Tommy and Djuna slipped through the gateway from the menagerie, around to the right, and down into the front row just below Spitfire Peters's flying rig.

Over five thousand people were crowded on tier after tier of seats under the big top. The cries of candy butchers selling "juice" rose and fell throughout the length of the big tent. Children screamed and cried and laughed with delight and antic.i.p.ation.

There was a long ruffle of drums as Tommy and Djuna sat down. The band struck up a spirited march. The great curtains from the performers' tent opened and the "grand spec," in all its spangled glory, moved around the hippodrome arena.

Clowns, aerialists, acrobats, equestrians and equestriennes, tightrope walkers, roaring lions and black panthers, elephants and gnus, jugglers, and more elephants, and clowns. Pageants unfolded as dainty, daring and dazzling elfs in shorts and bras and bobbed hair danced around the great track, seeming to float through s.p.a.ce effortlessly.

Tommy and Djuna were on their feet cheering and applauding as the great spectacle moved around the track, and then a coloratura soprano, perched high above the bandstand, sang "The Star-Spangled Banner."

And the show was on!

"Laugh, clown, laugh,"-and thirty buffoons of all sizes and shapes-the pegs upon which the circus is hung-burst from behind the great curtain to swarm over the rings and platforms, up the rigging and around the track, dressed in their individual versions of the cap and bells. Fat clowns, lean clowns, tall clowns, midget clowns-all with a laugh in every motion they made, from the one who pretended he had got on a tightwire by mistake, thirty feet above the tanbark with no net under him, and who kept slipping off the wire to hang by his fingers and toes while people screamed with fright and laughter, to the sad-faced little midget who sat down on the track and cried, with swerving horses racing around him and plunging over him.

Around the rings galloped the aristocracy of the circus, the equestrians and equestriennes, piling on each other's shoulders while the snow-white Percherons galloped to the whistling tune of the ringmaster's singing whip.

Far overhead, the aerialists stood, each at the end of his pedestal bar with the fly bar in his hands-poised, confident-moving now with flowing grace as they swung high under the top folds of the big tent or dropped the fly bar and whirled into s.p.a.ce until their catcher's hands slapped on their wrists, and people let out great gulps of air that they had almost swallowed.

"Jumping Jupiter!" Tommy Williams said with a wail. "I can't watch it all! There's so much you can't look at everything. We'll have to come every day and look at something different every day, or we won't remember anything! ... Look!"

Djuna followed his finger with his eyes and saw Fifi Lamont, queen of all the high-wire artists, balancing perilously fifty feet above the center platform, with no net under her, smiling and bowing as she went through her marvelous performance. Well she knew that a split second of wrong timing might send her crashing to the ground, to her death or permanent injury; but it was all in a day's work for an artist of Fifi Lamont's charm.

Elephants, seals, dogs and horses were performing on the platforms and in the rings, now, while jugglers and tightwire walkers worked on the wires overhead. Tumblers cut graceful arcs through the air as teeter-board artists bounced people high and the "risly" acts juggled people with their feet-and all the while, clowns went on with their buffoonery.

"Look! Look!" Tommy said suddenly. "There's that girl Socker was talking to in the chow tent!"

Djuna looked and saw three matched Percherons, snow-white, loping easily around the ring right in front of him, and on their backs were a man and a woman. Each had one foot on one of the outside Percherons and both had a foot on the back of the middle Percheron. Riding on the shoulders of the man was Joy Maybeck, her hands flung gracefully above her head as she smiled down at Djuna, and standing on the shoulders of the woman was another equestrienne who was almost as pretty as Joy.

In another moment Joy was standing alone on the back of one of the Percherons, and just before she did a back somersault and came down on the rump of the still-galloping Percheron she waved a hand at Djuna. When she stood up and waved and shouted she made a curtsy as she pa.s.sed him and Djuna said, "Golly, but she's wonderful! I bet that back somersault was the new trick she was going to do."

Then both Djuna and Tommy forgot about Joy Maybeck for the moment as the lights of the big tent began to fade, leaving a single spotlight aimed at the performer's entrance.

Into the spotlight stepped Trixie Cella, her elfin figure wrapped in a silver cloak, her dark hair curled tight on her lovely head. Right behind her was Spitfire Peters, his athletic body clothed in snow-white tights, his carrot-colored hair flaming above his smiling face. And then came Ned Barrow, his black hair even blacker above his snow-white tights that emphasized the swelling muscles of his figure.

Ears strained to catch every syllable as the announcer introduced them, while they walked gaily across to the rope ladder that led up to the pedestal board and the rope that would take Ned Barrow up to the catch bar. The band struck up a lively air as Trixie dropped her cloak into waiting hands, wiped the soles of the cloth pumps she had made herself and stepped on the slender rope ladder with wooden rungs that led up to the pedestal board far overhead.

She maneuvered neatly around the bulge made by the net as she went up the ladder skillfully, while Spitfire made a last inspection of the net. He looked at and tested the horizontal stretch that would be directly under them-it was called the "big net"-and at the pieces that angled up from the ends and were called "ap.r.o.ns." He then tested the cables between the ap.r.o.ns and the big net. They were known as "ridge ropes," and caused more injuries than anything else.