Freddy the Pied Piper

by Walter R. Brooks

  “That’s Jerry’s trouble too,” said Freddy. “No sense of direction. Or rather, he thinks there’s only one direction—straight ahead. Only way we could figure out to steer him was to hold something out on a stick in front of his nose, and turn it whichever way you want to go. That’s why Jinx has got that stick.”

  This was something Jinx and Freddy had figured out before the race. They knew that as soon as Jerry started to run he would shut his eyes and dash off in a straight line, which isn’t much good on a circular track. But he had a keen sense of smell, and could follow a cookie dangled on a string in front of his nose. At least they thought he could, and Jerry agreed with them.

  “I’m backing Stonewall to win, of course,” said the Major. “Which one do you fancy, Mr.—ah—”

  “Just call me Freddy,” said the pig. “Well, I only know about my own entries, but I’d back Jerry. Lions get off to a quick start, but they sort of slow down after a minute, while a rhinoceros keeps building up his speed the longer he runs.”

  “What do you think of the camel?”

  “He can run to beat the band,” said Freddy. “But camels are contrary. Nothing makes them happier than disappointing somebody. If this camel thought his rider wanted to lose the race, he’d tear in ahead of everybody. My guess is, he’ll come in last.”

  “You seem to know a lot about racing,” said the Major, looking at Freddy with respect.

  “I know a lot about animals, probably because I’m one myself. Oh, there goes the gun!”

  There was a bang from the starter’s pistol, and the animals were off. Leo took the lead, but the others came up quickly on either side and passed him. Freddy hadn’t thought much of Galloping Nellie. Cows aren’t built for speed, and don’t usually care much for it. But this cow was lean and rangy, and she stretched out her neck and held her tail straight up in the air, and with Mr. Bleech crouched on her back, skimmed over the ground like a racehorse. She had the inside position, next the rail, and at the quarter she was well out ahead. “Golly!” Freddy said to himself. “I wish Mrs. Wiggins could see this!”

  It was a pretty exciting race. The people in the grandstand went wild. They stood on the seats and yelled and waved their hats and pounded one another on the back, and several people fell off their benches and got bruised, but they got right up again and didn’t even feel it. The Major screamed: “Come on, Stonewall!” until he turned purple and lost his voice, but he kept right on opening his mouth, though no sound came out. At the halfway post, Nellie was still ahead. On her right the camel was swinging along at a smooth trot, but obviously not half trying, in spite of the way Bill was whacking her with his stick, while on his right Stonewall was coming up fast. Leo had dropped back and wasn’t trying any more either. He was shaking his mane self-consciously, and Freddy knew that he was thinking that if he couldn’t win, he could at least be admired for his good looks. On the outside, Jerry was only a little ahead of Leo, but he was beginning to pick up more speed, and Freddy was pleased to see that he was following the cookie very exactly. At the turns, Jinx would swing the cookie a little to the left, and Jerry would follow around the curve as smoothly as if he was running on rails.

  Gradually Stonewall and Jerry began to catch up with Nellie. When they came into the stretch, the three were running almost neck and neck. The crowd screamed and yelled louder than ever, and several people fell right out of the stand. An elderly uncle of the Major’s had his hat smashed down over his eyes so tight that he couldn’t pull it off without help, and as nobody would help him, he never saw the last part of the race at all. Mr. Bleech was sitting far forward on the cow’s neck and whacking her with the whip as if he was beating a carpet in the effort to maintain his lead, which was now less than a foot. But both Stonewall and Jerry came up and forged ahead and bore down side by side on the finish line.

  Freddy was up on his chair now, yelling like the rest of them. “Jerry! Come on!” Of course Jerry couldn’t hear him. But he came on just the same. He came on like a steam engine, snorting with every bound, and the horn on his nose crept up past the heavy curved ram’s horns, hung there a minute, and, fifty yards from the finish line, went on ahead.

  And then it happened. A cookie hasn’t any waist to tie a string around, and so when Jinx had fixed up Jerry’s steering gear, he had punched a hole in the cookie and tied the string through the hole. But the string had gradually sawed through the cookie, which all at once broke in two and dropped to the ground. Suddenly the spicy cookie smell, which Jerry had been following, wasn’t there any more. He swerved and brushed against Stonewall, and although he didn’t hit him hard, the ram shot sideways through the fence as if he had been side-swiped by an interstate bus. In doing this, Stonewall clipped Nellie, who turned a complete somersault. Mr. Bleech flew in the air and landed flat on his face, just as Nellie came down and landed in a sitting position on top of him, so that their positions were exactly reversed. And Jinx gave a yell and jumped off.

  And then Jerry swung still more to the left and instead of crossing the finish line he charged full tilt into the judges’ stand, which was built up close to the side of the track. There was a terrific crash as the stand seemed to explode, and the air was full of planks and shingles and judges and pieces of two-by-four. And when the dust settled, the people in the stand saw the judges sitting, very grimy and confused, on the heap of rubbish that had been the stand, while the rhinoceros charged on across the turf inside the track, smacked through the fence on the other side, and disappeared among the trees.

  He charged full tilt into the judges’ stand.

  Chapter 13

  The judges, of course, had not really seen the end of the race, so when they had got up and brushed each other off, and felt each other over for broken bones, they went across and talked to the Major, who told them that it was the camel who had really won. For he had been the first to cross the finish line. So Bill Wonks got the purse of two hundred dollars to take home to Mr. Boomschmidt. Freddy went down to say hello to Bill and congratulate him.

  “Well,” said Bill, “the chief can use the money all right. No thanks to this Mohammed though. Only reason we won was because there was nobody behind us but Leo, and Mohammed didn’t know that or he’d probably have stopped and sat down. What you doing down here, Freddy?”

  “Came down on business. I’ve got good news for you. How’s Mr. Boomschmidt and everybody, and why didn’t he come to see the race?”

  “You know how proud he is,” said Bill. “He won’t go anywhere unless he’s all shined up and his suit pressed. And he hasn’t even a suit to press now—worn his clothes all out, and no money to buy new ones.”

  “We’re going to change all that,” Freddy said.

  “I hope so. When I left this morning his mother was making a suit for him out of some old burlap bags. He just literally has nothing to wear, Freddy. Hey, here’s Leo!”

  “Well, scrub my toenails, Bill Wonks!” exclaimed the lion, holding out his paw. “How are you, Bill?” But without waiting for Bill’s reply he turned to Freddy. “Say, that Mr. Bleech has ridden off after Jerry. At least he left his cow in a stall and got on his horse and rode in that direction. Hadn’t we ought to keep an eye on him? Jerry’s got all that money in the saddlebags.”

  “As long as the saddlebags are on Jerry, it’ll take somebody bigger than that Bleech man to get the money out of them,” Freddy said. “But we’d better get Jerry anyway. He’s probably lying down and resting. He usually gets a headache when he runs into things.”

  “I don’t believe that stand would bother him,” said Leo. “It wasn’t very solidly constructed. Concrete, now—that’s what gives Jerry headaches.”

  Bill and the camel went along with them. They picked up Jinx in a patch of weeds behind the ex-grandstand. He too, had seen Mr. Bleech ride by on the trail of Jerry, but hadn’t felt worried. And indeed when they got to the trees there seemed no cause for alarm. For Jerry was sleeping peacefully and the saddlebags were undisturbed.
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br />   After a minute the rhinoceros opened his eyes. “Hello, Freddy,” he said. “Did you get your bandage?”

  “My what?” said Freddy.

  “That bandage you sent for. To do up Jinx’s paw. Mr. Bleech came for it. I said I didn’t remember your packing any bandage, but he said you told him it was in the saddlebags, so I let him look. He found it all right.”

  “Well, yank out all my incisors!” said Leo slowly. They all looked at one another in dismay, and then fell upon the saddlebags and pulled everything out. But the money was gone.

  When Jerry got it through his head what a lowdown trick had been played on him, he was pretty mad. His little eyes got quite red, and he stumped up and down on his short legs, thinking of all the things he would do to Mr. Bleech when he found him.

  “Which we probably won’t,” said Freddy hopelessly. “But we might as well try.”

  The buzzard was sitting in the tree above them with his greedy eyes glued to the cookie box, which was lying on the ground with the rest of the saddlebags’ contents. Freddy took out a cookie and held it up. “Tell me where Henry Bleech lives and I’ll give you this.”

  “Turn left at the gas station two miles down the Yare’s Corners road,” said Phil. “It’s the third house on the right.”

  Freddy tossed him the cookie. Then he got up and repacked the saddlebags. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll go call on Mr. Bleech.”

  They made a detour around the racetrack, where amid a good deal of confusion another race was getting started. But Major Hornby saw them and came riding across to intercept them. Freddy went to meet him, and began apologizing for all the trouble they had caused. “And I hope your boy wasn’t hurt when Stonewall went over the fence,” he said.

  “Not a bit. And as for the trouble—why you’ve given our little track a thousand dollars’ worth of free advertising. The most sensational race we’re ever likely to have.”

  “I hope the judges weren’t hurt,” Freddy said.

  “They’re tough,” said the Major. “Anyway, nobody ever likes judges. Whatever decision they make, somebody’s always mad about it. Even if they decide in your favor you never give them much credit. Everybody likes to see a judge bounced around a little.”

  Their road ran through the swamp where Phil claimed to have seen the big snake, and here Bill Wonks stopped and gave a peculiar whistle, and a minute later a huge boa came gliding out of the underbrush into the road. When he saw them he gave a delighted hiss. “Well, well, this is wonderful!” he said. He threw a couple of coils around Bill and hugged him so enthusiastically that Bill’s eyes stuck out.

  “Quit it, Willy!” Bill wheezed. “Don’t be so darned affectionate.”

  “Can’t help it,” said the boa. “That’s the way I feel. Why, I haven’t seen a familiar face in months.” But he uncoiled and went over to embrace Jerry.

  The rhinoceros didn’t mind being squeezed, but he seemed rather embarrassed by such a demonstrative greeting. “Hi, Willy,” he grunted.

  “You remember Freddy and Jinx,” Bill said. “They’ve come down to get the circus started again.” He stopped abruptly. “That is,” he said slowly, “that’s why they came, but—”

  “Can’t we just shake hands?” said Freddy, backing away from the advancing snake.

  “We could if I had any hands,” said Willy. “I’ll just give you a little hug. How else can I show I’m glad to see you?”

  “Well … all right,” said Freddy. So Willy gave him a little hug, and then looked around. “Where’s Jinx?’

  So Willy gave him a little hug.

  But Jinx had gone up a tree.

  “Jinx isn’t very demonstrative,” said Freddy, trying to get back the breath that Willy had squeezed out of him. “Why don’t you hug Leo and Mohammed?”

  Willy said he made it a rule never to hug anybody with claws more than three inches long. “And as for that moth-eaten, knock-kneed, bilious old grouch, Mohammed …” He stuck out his forked tongue at the camel, who made an ill-tempered, bubbling sound and kicked viciously at him.

  “Come on,” said Leo. “We’re going to pay a call.”

  Mr. Bleech’s house is kind of hard to describe. It was just a small white house, neither pretty nor ugly, neither large nor small, neither very well kept up nor badly run down. It was just a house. Jinx went in to reconnoiter while the others hid down the road. Presently he came back to report that somebody was moving around inside the house, but all the doors and windows were shut up tight. It was decided that someone should go to the front door and knock, and then if Mr. Bleech opened the door, Willy, who would be hiding down beside the little porch, would whip in and grab him. Leo and Bill both volunteered to do the knocking, but Freddy said no, it was his money that had been stolen; and so while Willy slid up into position from the side, the pig walked straight up the front path.

  But it didn’t work out as they had planned it, for instead of coming to the door, Mr. Bleech threw up the window to the left of the porch, which was just above Willy, and the next thing the snake knew he was staring right down the barrels of a big double-barreled shotgun.

  Freddy said afterwards that he never knew that a snake could glide backwards, but that’s just what Willy did. He said: “Oh, excuse me; I guess I made a mistake,” and he backed right down the path and out the gate. And when Mr. Bleech swung the gun towards Freddy and just said: “Git!” Freddy backed right after him.

  When they got down to where their friends were hiding, Jerry was pacing up and down snorting, and madder than ever, and he said: “Look, Freddy, I’m going to handle this guy,” and he went out into the road.

  “No, no,” said Freddy. “Come back. It’s no use attacking him directly. We’ve got to use our heads.”

  “That’s just what I’m going to use,” said the rhinoceros. And he put his big ungainly head down so that the heavy horn on his nose almost touched the ground, and charged the house.

  Well of course he had his eyes shut, and he missed the house by about two feet. Bang! went one barrel of Mr. Bleech’s gun, and then Bang! went the other barrel, but a rhinoceros has a hide two inches thick and I don’t suppose the shot even tickled him. Out in back he hit a chicken coop, and he went on across a field in a cloud of feathers. He went quite a distance before it occurred to him to turn around and charge again from the other side.

  “He’s an awful poor shot,” said Leo. “He needs somebody to aim him.”

  Mr. Bleech had slid two more cartridges into his gun, and as Jerry came thundering along he fired both barrels at once, but they had no effect. This time Jerry knocked apart a corncrib in the back, and he sheared off a sort of lean-to porch affair at the side of the house, but he still didn’t get a direct hit.

  “Well, he’s whittling the guy’s place down,” said Leo. “But I’ll aim him this time.” So he stopped Jerry when he got to the road, and then he turned him around and pointed him and said: “Go!” And this time Jerry hit square between the two front windows. The bang of the gun was followed by a terrific crash and the tinkle of broken glass, and a yell from Mr. Bleech. A cloud of dust puffed up and hid everything; evidently the Bleech house hadn’t been dusted or swept in a good many years.

  There were a few smaller crashes as Jerry went through a couple of partitions and a sideboard and a kitchen stove before he split the rear wall and got out into the open again.

  But as the dust cleared they saw Mr. Bleech. He had stepped out into the yard and was waving a grimy handkerchief. Bill went out to stop Jerry, and Freddy and Leo went forward.

  “Just for your information,” Mr. Bleech drawled, “this house ain’t mine: I rent it.”

  “I want my money,” said Freddy. “Are you going to give it to me?”

  “Money?” Mr. Bleech queried vaguely. “Your money?” He shook his head. “I ain’t seen any money of yours, my friend.”

  “I see you don’t intend to give it back,” Freddy said. “So we will have to take other measures.” Just what those measure
s would be, however, he had no idea. Mr. Bleech still had his gun, and they couldn’t fight him. Even Jerry was no use, for out in the open it would be easy to dodge the rhinoceros’s rushes. There was nothing to do but retreat.

  Mr. Bleech stood fingering his wispy beard as they turned and filed glumly out of the gate, and they heard him say, as if to himself: “Money? Whoever heard of a pig with money?”

  Bill Wonks said: “That’s the trouble, Freddy; if you go to the police, they’ll never believe that a pig could have as much money as that.”

  “I could prove I had it,” Freddy said. “Mr. Weezer counted it out to me.”

  “But you couldn’t prove that this Bleech took it. It’s just your word against his. And no judge will believe a pig’s word against a man’s.”

  “Sometimes,” Freddy said bitterly, “I wish I’d never been a pig!”

  “Well, you are one,” said Leo, “so let’s go on to Boomschmidt’s.”

  But Freddy shook his head. “Oh, golly, Bill; I can’t go there now. Why that money was the whole point of my coming down here. I guess—gee, I guess we’d just better go home again, Jinx.”

  “When you’re right almost on his doorstep?” said Bill. “He’ll feel terrible if you do that. Besides, he said if he won that two hundred at the races, he’d give us a big party, and he’d want you there.”

  “I haven’t any heart for it,” said Freddy gloomily.

  “You don’t have to be a partner in the circus, anyway,” said Jinx.

  “I’d rather leave the farm for ten years,” said Freddy, “than to disappoint Mr. Boomschmidt like this.”

  The cat sniffed. “Very noble of you!” he said sarcastically. He really felt pretty badly about it. himself, but cats don’t like to show their feelings, and he expressed his disappointment and his anger at Mr. Bleech by picking on Freddy. Probably you can remember times when you’ve done the same thing yourself.