Andy the Acrobat

by John Kendrick Bangs

  CHAPTER IX

  GOOD-BYE TO FAIRVIEW

  Looking back at the attic window, Andy Wildwood wondered how he had evermade the successful descent.

  Any boy lacking his sense of athletic precision would have scored adangerous fall. Andy now slowly worked his way down thrown the branchesof the tree. He got a few sharp scratches, but was vastly pleased withhimself when he landed safely on the ground.

  "Good-bye to Fairview!" he spoke with a stimulating sense of freedom,waving his hand across the scene in general. "I may not come back richor famous, but I shall have seen the world."

  Andy did not turn in the direction of Centreville. He felt of the pocketcontaining his father's watch and the little box, and then headedstraight for Millville.

  That was where the big scholar, Graham, lived. It was five miles away.Graham boarded with the farmer who had bought Mr. Dale's cow and calf.

  Andy had kept Graham in mind ever since he had agreed to pay for burningup the hay stack. It was about two o'clock when he reached hisdestination.

  The night he and his school companions had restored the little calf toits frantic mother, Andy had seen Graham in the window of his room inthe old farmhouse.

  Andy now looked up at the window of this room. It was open. A trellisran up its side. The house was dark and silent. He scaled the trellisand rested a hand on the window sill.

  "Mr. Graham," he called out softly. Then he repeated the call severaltimes, gradually raising his voice.

  There was a rustle of bed clothes, a droning mumble. Andy called again.

  "What is it? who is there?" questioned Graham's tones.

  "It's me," said Andy. "Don't be disturbed. Just listen for a minute,will you?"

  "Eh! Is that Andy Wildwood?" exclaimed Graham.

  "Yes," answered Andy.

  A white-robbed figure came to the window and sat down in a chair there.Graham rubbed his eyes and stared wonderingly at the strange midnightvisitor clinging to the window sill.

  "Why, what's the trouble, Andy?" he questioned in a tone of surprise.

  "It's trouble, yes, you can make sure of that," responded Andy with alittle nervous catch in his voice. "I'm having nothing but trouble,lately. There's so much of it around here that I've concluded to getout of it."

  "How get out of it?" demanded Graham.

  "I've left home--for good. I want to leave a clear record behind me, soI've come to you. You don't mind my disturbing you this way, I hope?"

  "No--no, indeed," answered Graham promptly. "Run away, eh?"

  "Yes, I've got to. Aunt Lavinia has had me arrested; she wants to sendme to reform school."

  "Why," exclaimed Graham indignantly, "that's a burning shame!"

  "I thought so. The constable was around last evening. He locked me inthe attic for safe keeping, but I got free, and here I am, on my wayto--to--on my way to find work."

  "Do you mean circus work?" guessed Graham quickly.

  "Why, yes, I do. I don't mind telling you, for you have always been afriend to us smaller boys."

  "Always will be, Andy."

  "I believe that. We all like you. It's this way: I think I have a chanceto join a show, and I want to, bad. I shall be paid something. When Iam, I want to send it to you."

  "To me? What for, Andy?"

  "Well, I smashed the desk and pulled down the chimney at theschoolhouse, you know."

  "Yes."

  "I calculate that damage amounts to about ten dollars. I burned down ahaystack belonging to farmer Dale yesterday. Twenty dollars, he says.I've agreed to pay him, and I want you to see the school trustees to-dayand explain to them that I'll pay for the desk and the chimney. I toldMr. Dale I would give him my note. I can't just now, but I will mailone, signed, to you."

  "Will Dale accept it?" asked Graham.

  "Yes, if I secure it."

  "Secure it, how?"

  "That's why I came to see you," explained Andy. "I've got in my pocket asilver watch and chain and a box ornamented with gold. They were left tome by my father. I want you to take the articles. Explain to Mr. Daleand the school trustees about them--that you are to hold them for thebenefit of my creditors, see?"

  "That's quite business-like, Andy."

  "I will certainly send you some money. As soon as I do, divide it upwith the school and Mr. Dale. I will keep you posted as to mywhereabouts, but keep it a secret. Will you do all this for me?"

  "Gladly, Andy."

  "Here are the things," continued Andy, handing over the contents of hispocket. "And thank you."

  "Don't mention it. You're all right, Andy," declared Graham in a warm,friendly way. "I shan't encourage you to run away from home, but I won'ttry to stop you. Have you got any money?"

  "Why, no," answered Andy.

  "You wait a minute, then."

  Graham took the watch and the box and retired from the window. As hereturned he pressed a folded piece of paper between Andy's fingers.

  "Take that," he said.

  "What is it?" asked Andy.

  "It's a five-dollar bill."

  "Oh, Mr. Graham--"

  "No nonsense, Andy. I know from practical experience what it is to startout in the world penniless. I have the money saved up for two years'board and schooling. I won't miss that little amount until way alongnext fall. You will have paid it back long before that, I'll warrant."

  "You bet I will--and you're awful good to me!" declared Andy heartily.

  "Just one more word, Andy," resumed Graham earnestly. "If you aredetermined to be a circus tumbler, be the best or nothing. If you likeenjoyment, made it good, clean fun. I'm not afraid of you. I'm onlygiving the advice of a fellow older than you, who has learned that itpays to be right and do right in the long run."

  When Andy once more stood in the road with his royal friend's "Goodluck, old fellow!" still echoing in his ears, his heart was very full.

  "It's mighty good of him," murmured Andy, safely stowing away thefive-dollar bill. "I'll deserve his good opinion, see if I don't!"

  Andy walked on a mile or two further. Climbing a fence he made a snugbed alongside a convenient haystack.

  The sun was shining brightly when the lad awoke, refreshed and full ofspirit and hope. He somehow felt as though he was beginning the mosteventful day of his life.

  Andy turned his face in the direction of Centreville. He had no idea ofgoing direct there, however, that day.

  He did not know how many people from Fairview might have seen him therethe day previous. He did know that if Aunt Lavinia was determined topursue him, the first thing she would think of was his circuspredilections.

  Andy planned cautiously and with wisdom. From watching the circusposters he knew it's route. Centreville was in another county fromFairview. But Clifton, the next point of exhibition, was inanother state.

  "That suits me," he murmured.

  Andy had an idea that once safely over the state line the law could notreach him so readily as on home territory.

  He knew the neighboring towns pretty fairly, and he fixed on Clifton ashis destination. Clifton was about eight miles from Centreville.

  Andy decided he would go there and put in the time until next morning.

  At midnight the show would pull up stakes at Centreville. He would be onhand to welcome its arrival at Clifton.

  "Then I will see Miss Starr and Mr. Marco," he thought. "If the circusmanager will only take me on, I'll fall into great luck."

  Andy got to Clifton about noon. He changed the five-dollar bill, buyinga cheap but big dinner, for he was nearly famished.

  He learned where the circus was to exhibit, and went to the spot. Someworkers were already there, digging trenches, distributing sawdustand the like.

  Andy volunteered to help them. It would be good practice in the way ofexperience, he told himself. Until four o'clock in the afternoon he wasquite busy about the place.

  He had heard so much circus talk during his free labors that his mindwas more full of the show than ever.

 
Andy had heard one of the workers describe to a new hand all theexcitement, bustle and novelty attending a jump from one townto another.

  He strolled about the place but grew restive. Just before dusk he boughtsome crackers and cheese, filled his pockets with the eatables, andstarted down the road leading towards Centreville.

  Andy met an advance guard of the circus about two miles out of Clifton.Some wagons carried the cooking camp outfit. A little farther on he wasmet by some menagerie wagons.

  "They'll come in sections," ruminated Andy.

  "The big tent people won't make a start till after the eveningperformance. I won't risk going any farther. There's an open barn nearthe road. I'll take a little snooze, and wake up in time to join theprocession of big loads."

  Andy secured his little cash reserve in a marble bag. He ate some lunchand made for the open structure he had observed.

  It was an old doorless barn near a hay press. A great many bales werestack up at one side. Climbing among these Andy found a cozy boxed inspace, carried some loose hay to it, and composed himself for sleep.

  "Twenty cents a day is pretty economical living," he reflected, as hestudied the stars visible through a chink in the roof. "I wonder whatthe circus people pay a beginner?"

  Wondering about this, and a variety of similar themes, Andy dozed, butwas suddenly awakened by the sharp snap of a match and a brief flare.

  He got up and peered over the edge of the bales of hay that enclosed hisresting place.

  The moon was shining brightly. Outlined at the open doorway of the barnwas a man. He leaned against a post, had just lit a cigar, and waslooking intently down the road in the direction of Centreville.

  Some wagons rattled by and the man drew inside the barn out of view.Andy made out that he was well-dressed and very active and nervous inhis manner.

  "That man is waiting for some one," decided Andy, gettinginterested--"yes, and he belongs to the show, I'll bet."

  Andy reasoned this out from the facility with which the man hummed out atune he had heard the circus orchestra play.

  The man paced restively to and fro. He went out into the road and lookedfar down it. He returned to the barn and resumed his impatient pacingto and fro.

  Nearly an hour went by in this fashion. Andy began to consider that hehad become curious without much reason. He was about to drop back againto his cozy bed when he heard the man utter an exclamation ofsatisfaction.

  He rubbed his hands and braced up, and as a new figure turned from theroad spoke in a cautious but distinct tone.

  "That you, Murdock?"

  "It's me, sure enough, Daley," came the reply.

  "S--sh--don't use my name here. You know--"

  "All right. No one likely to hear us in this lonely spot, though," spokethe newcomer addressed as Murdock.

  "Well, what have you to report?" questioned Daley eagerly.

  "It's all right."

  "You've fixed it?"

  "Snug and sure. The show will have a big sensation to-night not down onthe bills."

  The listening Andy heard the man called Daley utter a gratified chuckle.

  "Good," he said.

  "And there'll be a vacancy on the Benares Brothers' team to-morrow,"added Daley, "so give me the twenty dollars."