Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

“Eh?” said Don, staring at her thoughtfully; “that isn’t a bad idea, Becky.”

  “What idea?”

  “The marching. When there’s an election the men all get together and form a company and parade the streets with banners and a band — and their man gets elected.”

  “It is a way to win popular favor,” said Doris.

  “The marching and bands and fireworks arouse excitement.”

  “Well, that’s what we ought to do,” declared Don. “Those fool people in the town are all shaking their heads like billygoats and saying Toby must be guilty, just ‘cause they found the empty box in his back yard. Anyone could put the box there; it’s no proof Toby did it. Let’s get up a Toby Clark Marching Club, to defend Toby and bring folks to the right way of thinking. That’ll help him more than anything else.”

  “It would make ‘em laugh,” said Beck, “to see two boys and two girls marching with a banner and a band. And where in thunder will you get that band, Don?”

  “You shut up. We’ll enlist every kid in town in our marching club. It’ll be no end of fun — besides helping Toby.”

  “That sounds good,” said Allerton. “I’ll be the captain.”

  “I’m captain myself,” retorted Don. “It’s my idea.”

  “It was Becky’s.”

  “Nothing of the sort. What she said gave me the idea; and it’s a good one.”

  “If you’re going to hog everything, you can get up your own marching club, and I’ll stay out of it,” said Allerton sullenly.

  Don had a hot reply on his tongue’s end, but hesitated. He really wanted to help Toby Clark.

  “Tell you what we’ll do, Al,” he said generously; “we’ll get up the club together and then let all the members vote which one of us shall be captain. Then the other can be first lieutenant.”

  “All right,” agreed Al.

  “Why don’t you both be generals?” asked Becky. “Then it would leave some offices for us girls.”

  “Why, we can’t be expected to march in a parade, Becky,” said Doris chidingly. “It wouldn’t be ladylike.”

  “I’m no lady, an’ I’m goin’ to march,” replied Becky, with decision. “This isn’t politics; it’s a boom for Toby Clark, the Unjustly Accused, and I’m in the game first, last an’ all the time.”

  “That’s the proper spirit,” said Don.

  “Tell you what,” remarked Allerton; “we’ll print a lot of cards, inviting all the boys and girls in Riverdale to join the Toby Clark Marching Club, and we’ll distribute them at school and call the first meeting in our barn on Saturday forenoon.”

  “Great idea, Al! Let’s print the cards right away,” cried Don with enthusiasm.

  They first wrote the announcement on a piece of paper, Becky doing the writing in her scrawly hand and Doris correcting the spelling, which was something startling as Becky employed it. Then they set the type, the girls eagerly helping to do that, and after locking it up in the chase they ran off the first impression. It was somewhat blurred, there being too much ink on the roller, but Becky proudly read it aloud, as follows:

  TAKE NOTICE!

  You are respectfully invited to become a Member of the Toby Clark marching club!

  Organized for the Defense of our Unjustly Accused Fellow Citizen, Toby Clark! And to Bring About his Release from Jail and to Clear his Good Name from the Taint of Cowardly Slander! There will be uniforms! bands! red fire! and banners!

  All in Favor of this will Meet at Randolph’s Barn (upstairs) on Saturday Morning at 9 o’clock Sharp.

  ALL BOYS AND GIRLS WELCOME TO JOIN!

  Don Daring, A1 Randolph, Doris Randolph, Becky Daring, Organizing Committee.

  (Al Randolph, Printer)

  “The composition doesn’t seem to be quite clear,” observed Doris, when the applause had subsided. “It reads as if all in favor of the red fire and banners were invited to join.”

  “Well, so they are,” maintained Don. “The red fire an’ banners mean the Marching Club, ‘cause they’re a part of it.”

  “Better leave the band out,” advised Becky. “It’s a swindle, and we want this thing on the square.”

  “There’s going to be a band — if we have to blow on combs covered with paper,” retorted her brother. “But this is going to be an awful big thing, girls, and we may hire the Riverdale Cornet Band.”

  “That’d cost twenty dollars.”

  “If they’re friends of Toby Clark they’ll play for nothing. Don’t borrow trouble. Buckle to, and make the thing a success.”

  They printed off a hundred cards and laid them upon a board to dry overnight. Next morning Allerton brought them to the Darings and each of the Organizing Committee took twenty-five to distribute at school. The boys and girls of Riverdale read the announcement and became excited over the novelty of the undertaking. Therefore the Randolph barn was crowded on Saturday morning at 9 o’clock, when Allerton called the meeting to order — a necessary call — and announced that Donald Daring would explain the object of the proposed organization.

  Don had carefully prepared his speech in advance and had even committed it to memory. Right after breakfast he had recited it to Becky without a skip, and his usually critical sister had declared it was “simply grand.” But Don had an attack of what is called “stage fright” and as he faced the throng of eager listeners promptly forgot the beginning of his address — and nearly all the rest of it. But he knew what he wanted to talk about and after stammering through the first sentence, progressed very well, his earnestness inspiring him to oratory.

  “Friends and fellow citizens,” he began; “you all know what a measly shame the arrestin’ of Toby Clark was, which he’s innocent as I am or as any of you are. You know Toby, and he’s a good fellow, and no sneak-thief, and you can bet your oatmeal on that ev’ry time! (Applause.) Toby’s always been a friend an’ stood by us, so now’s the time for us to stand by him. The truth is, somebody’s tryin’ to make a goat of Toby, and hopes to put him in jail so he’ll escape himself.”

  A Voice: “So who’ll escape? Which one of ‘em, Don?”

  “So the thief that stole the box will escape, of course. That’s why the thief put the empty box in Toby’s yard, an’ stuffed the papers in his shanty. He hoped Toby would be arrested an’ proved guilty, so he — the fellow that stole the box — wouldn’t be suspected.”

  Another Voice: “Who stole the box, if Toby didn’t?”

  “We don’t know who stole it. I wish we did. But we’re sure it wasn’t Toby and so we’re going to stick up for him and force Sam Parsons an’ the law-bugs over at Bayport to set him free. That’s what this Club’s going to be organized for,” here Don suddenly remembered part of his speech: “to mold public opinion into the right channels and champion the cause of our downtrodden comrade.”

  “Hooray!” yelled Becky, and great applause followed.

  “I heard Lawyer Holbrook was stickin’ up for Toby,” said a boy.

  “Holbrook’s a stick, but he ain’t stickin’ up much,” replied Don. “He isn’t posted on things, ‘cause he’s just come to town and don’t know the run of things. If Toby’s goin’ to be saved, this Marching Club, organized for his benefit, is goin’ to save him, and it’ll be stacks of fun besides. We’ll parade all through the town, with flags an’ banners flying, an’ we’ll have a banquet, an’ perhaps a brass band, an’ so help to set Toby Clark free.”

  “What’ll we eat at the banquet?” asked a solemn-eyed girl.

  “Food, of course,” answered Becky. “You’d better join an’ get a square meal, for once in your life, Susan Doozen.”

  “I guess our grocery bill is as big as yours is!” cried the girl angrily.

  “It’s bigger,” replied Becky composedly, “for we pay ours.”

  “Here, cut that out!” commanded the speaker. “We’re not here to squabble, but to fight for Toby Clark, and we’re going to put up the biggest fight Riverdale has ever seen. The Toby Clark Marching Club will become fam
ous, an’ go down in the annals of history as a — as — as — ”

  “As a Marching Club,” said Allerton, helping him out.

  “With a record we’ll all be proud of,” added Don. “I can tell you kids one thing, and that is that every boy an’ girl who don’t belong to our marching club will be looked down on as nobodies, an’ they’ll deserve it. This is goin to be the biggest thing that ever happened in Riverdale and when Toby Clark is free and cleared of this wicked slander I’m going to petition Congress to give every one of us a gold medal. Now, then, the register is on that box beside the chairman, who is Al Randolph. You’ll form in line and all walk up and sign it. It’s a pledge to become a member of this Marching Club and to allow no one to say Toby Clark is guilty without denying it. Also to obey the rules of the Club and mind its officers.”

  “Who’s them?” asked a small boy.

  “We’re going to elect the officers after you’ve all signed,” replied Don.

  It was evident that the arguments advanced had been effective. Every boy and girl present signed the roll. When Doris had counted the names she announced that the Toby Clark Marching Club now numbered sixty-seven members.

  “We’ll make it an even hundred in a few days,” declared Don exultantly. “And now we’ll have the election of officers. All in favor of me for captain say ‘aye.’”

  “Hold on!” cried Al, jumping up. “That isn’t fair. You promised they should vote whether you or I should be captain.”

  “That’s all right,” said Don. “If they don’t elect me they can vote for you.”

  “Can’t anyone else be it?” asked a big boy anxiously.

  “No,” replied Don. “It was my idea, and Al printed the invitations on his press. One of us has got to be captain and the other lieutenant. But there’ll be lots of other officers.”

  “Listen to me,” said Becky. “I know how to run an election. I’ll give each one a piece of paper, and each one must write ‘Al’ or ‘Don’ on it, whichever they want for captain. Then Doris and I will collect the papers and count ‘em, and whoever has the most will be elected.”

  There being no objection to this plan it was carried out. When the papers were counted Al had twenty-six votes and Don forty-one.

  “Are you sure you counted right?” asked Al in a disappointed tone.

  “Count’ em yourself, if you want to” replied Becky.

  “Friends and fellow citizens,” said Don, bowing to the members of the Marching Club, “I thank you for this evidence of your good judgment. I’m now the captain and I’ll drill you like a regiment of soldiers, only better. Al is first lieutenant, and I appoint Becky secretary and Doris the treasurer.”

  “When do we get the gold medals?” asked a girl.

  Don glared at her.

  “The gold medals don’t come till after Toby is cleared. Then I said I’d ask Congress for ‘em.”

  “Who’s Congress!” inquired the girl.

  There was a laugh, at this, and then Don said they’d elect two standard-bearers, to carry the banners, and four corporals. He didn’t much care who filled these offices, and so allowed the members to vote for whom they pleased. By the time the election was over Doris and Becky brought up two great trays of cakes, while their brothers provided a pail of lemonade, with which the entire club was served by having recourse to constant dilutions.

  Providing these refreshments had been thought by the organizers to be good policy and calculated to arouse enthusiasm in the Marching Club; and so it did. After being served they all trooped out upon the lawn, where Don and Al matched the children into pairs and arranged the order in which they should parade. The boys and girls wanted to march through the town at once, but their captain told them they were not ready for a parade yet. They must be drilled, and the banners must be made and painted. Each member was instructed to get a white sash and wear it whenever the club met.

  They drilled until noon, growing more and more animated and enthusiastic, and then separated to meet again after supper on the grounds of the Daring residence.

  CHAPTER XI

  HOW THE CLUB RECEIVED A DONATION

  “What were all those children doing at the Randolphs?” inquired Cousin Judith, as Becky and Don came in to dinner, flushed and triumphant.

  “That was the Toby Clark Marching Club,” announced Don, proudly. “I’m elected captain of it.”

  Judith seemed puzzled.

  “Tell me about it,” she said. “What’s the idea?”

  Becky at once began an excited explanation and Don broke in the assist her, so that by listening carefully to the broken sentences the Little Mother managed to get a fair idea of the object of the organization.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Becky inquired anxiously.

  “No, indeed. The Marching Club may not do Toby Clark much good, but it certainly will do him no harm. As you say, there will be lots of fun in parading in defense of one so unjustly accused.”

  “Becky and I are going to spend all our week’s allowance on ribbon,” said Don, “and we will make it into badges and Al will print them this afternoon in gold letters. He got some gold powder with his printing outfit.”

  “Can’t I belong?” asked Sue, who had not been present at the meeting.

  “Of course,” said Becky. “Every able-bodied kid in town is welcome to join, and I’ll bet a cookie they’ll all come in. It’s the swellest thing in Riverdale, just now, and not to belong to the Toby Clark Marching Club is to be just a nobody.”

  “I think I would like to contribute the ribbon for the badges,” said Cousin Judith. “How much will you need?”

  “Oh, thank you!” they all cried gleefully, and Becky added that they wanted enough white ribbon to make a hundred badges.

  “White’s going to be our color,” said the girl, “‘cause it’s the emblem of innocence, and we’ll stick to Toby’s innocence till the cows come home. We’re all to wear white sashes, and I wish we could get white caps to match; but I don’t suppose we can.”

  “I’ll see if I can make a white cap,” remarked Phoebe, who was quite delighted with the idea of the Marching Club. “If I find I can do it, I’ll make one for every member.”

  This encouragement delighted Becky and Don and after dinner Judith and Phoebe went down town and purchased the ribbon for the badges and white cotton cloth for the caps. Phoebe found it was not very difficult to make a round cap, which consisted merely of a band and a crown, and the first one she stitched up on the machine was pronounced a success. It was becoming to boys and girls alike and Becky thought Al could print “T. C. M. C.” on the front of each cap, very easily.

  It took Allerton, assisted by Don, all the afternoon to print the badges, but they looked very pretty with their gold letters and Doris fringed the end of each one to make it look more like a badge. Becky, meantime, was assisting Phoebe with the caps, and so was Cousin Judith. They managed to make thirty before evening, when the club was to meet, and Don was told to promise each member a cap as soon as the rest could be made.

  Nearly eighty children gathered on the lawn after supper and the new additions all signed the roll of the club and became members. Doris and Becky pinned a badge upon each one and told them to wear it wherever they might go, as a mark of distinction. The thirty caps were also distributed and some had already provided and brought with them their white sashes. These preparations filled the youngsters with joy and made them very proud of belonging to the new organization. Don got them in line and marched them around the grounds awhile, but the evenings were short at this time of the year and the children were soon dismissed with instructions to assemble on Monday after school and to bring as many new members as could be induced to join.

  The badges were worn even to church the next day and aroused much curiosity; but not a boy nor girl would tell what “T. C. M. C.” meant, as they had pledged themselves to keep the club and its object a deep secret until they were ready to parade.

  Perhaps it was not wholly a des
ire to help Toby Clark that animated these children, although after they were enrolled in the Marching Club they one and all warmly defended him if his innocence was questioned. What most attracted them was the club itself, with its glamour of badges, sashes, caps, “refreshments” at meetings, its drills and parades and the promises of brass bands and gold medals.

  Doris, a conscientious little girl, took Don Daring to task for making those rash promises, but the boy protested that they would get a band, somehow or other, and as for the medals he had only said he would ask “Congress” for them and he meant to keep his word. If “Congress” refused to present the medals it wouldn’t be his fault, anyhow.

  They drilled every afternoon during the following week. Phoebe finished the caps and supplied sashes to those children who were unable to get them at home. Becky wheedled Aunt Hyacinth, the black mammy who had been with the Darings all their lives, into making a hundred cookies one day and a hundred fried cakes the next, and with these the girls served lemonade to the Club. Wednesday afternoon Doris again supplied the refreshments and on Thursday Cousin Judith furnished ice cream for the whole assemblage. Janet Ferguson, whose interest had been aroused by the unique idea of the Toby Clark Marching Club, provided the refreshments for Friday, and Saturday was to be the day of the first great parade.

  But before this the Marching Club received its greatest surprise, resulting in its greatest impetus. On Thursday Doris Randolph came running over to the Daring place breathless with excitement and waving a letter as she met Becky and Don.

  “Oh, dear!” she gasped; “what do you suppose has happened?”

  “The North Star has gone south,” answered Becky, laughing.

  “No; it’s something great — wonderful,” said Doris. “Just listen to this letter; the postman brought it a minute ago.”

  She opened the letter with fluttering fingers and read as follows: “Miss Doris Randolph, Treasurer of the Toby Clark Marching Club:

  “We beg to inform you that one of our customers, who wishes to remain unknown, has placed to your credit in Spaythe’s Bank the sum of Fifty Dollars, to be used for the promotion of the Club as its officers deem best. Very respectfully, Spaythe’s Bank, by Eric Spaythe, Cashier.”