“Hey!” said Freddy. “Fine pair of jailers you are! Where’s the prisoner? Escaped, I suppose?”
The cats jumped up and both began explaining at once. Presto had vanished. He had done his disappearing act in the hat for them several times, but the last time he had refused to reappear again. “Goodbye,” he had said; “I’m going back to Centerboro,” and after that hadn’t answered when they spoke to him. “We thought he must still be in the room,” Minx said, “because even though he was invisible, he would have to open the door to get out.” But they had searched the place so thoroughly, even pawing about gingerly inside the hat, that they were sure they’d have caught him if he’d been there. He was just simply gone.
Freddy smiled to himself. He had a pretty good idea what had happened. Presto had probably got sick of hearing Minx talk, and had curled up quietly in the secret compartment of the hat. And indeed, when he spread a piece of paper over the hat and said: “Presto, change-o!” and took the paper off, there was the rabbit, sitting up and blinking sleepily at them.
Freddy went and opened the door. “All right, Presto,” he said. “Beat it!” And in three jumps Presto was out of the hat, out of the door, and in the middle of the road. And he disappeared down the highway like a small white stone being skipped across water.
“What did you let him go for?” said Jinx. “We might have made him show us how to disappear too.”
“Did I ever tell you about that conjuror I knew in India?” Minx asked. “He—”
“Sure, sure; forty times,” Freddy cut in. “Listen, anybody can disappear in that hat. I’d like to do it myself, only I’m too big to get in it. But why don’t one of you try it? How about you, Jinx?” He looked warningly at his friend and shook his head slightly, and Jinx, realizing that something was up, said: “Why, I’d like to, but—er—”
“Ladies first, eh?” said Freddy. “All right, Minx. You try.”
So Minx got in and Freddy put the paper over her. He rattled it a good deal, and under cover of the sound whispered rapidly in Jinx’s ear. Jinx’s face broke into a delighted smile, and he stood back, and then Freddy said the magic words and whisked the paper off. And there of course was Minx, sitting in the hat.
“Just as I thought,” said Freddy. “She’s vanished all right.”
“Completely gone,” Jinx agreed.
“I’m right here,” said Minx. “Do you really mean you can’t see me?”
“Did you hear anything?” said Freddy.
“Thought I heard a faint mew,” said Jinx. “Are you there, sis?” Both animals peered earnestly at a point just above Minx’s head.
“Certainly I’m here,” she said crossly. “Can’t you even hear what I say?” She jumped out of the hat and walked over to Jinx and cuffed his ear.
Jinx didn’t look at her. “Funny,” he said; “I thought something just touched my ear. Very light and delicate, though—like a butterfly’s kiss. Or I could have imagined it, I suppose.”
“Probably,” said Freddy, who was still peering into the hat, and feeling around the inside. “No, she’s not here. Queer we don’t hear her say anything, though. I could always hear Presto.”
“You big ninnies!” said Minx angrily. “I’m right here in front of your stupid noses! Look at me, can’t you?” And as they continued to gaze worriedly around into the corners of the room: “I don’t like this!” she wailed. “You let me out of here!”
Freddy had gone over and was feeling of the chair cushions. “Not here,” he said. “My goodness, Jinx, suppose she’s really vanished. I mean, not just invisible, but really—gone! Wouldn’t that be awful!”
“Terrible,” said Jinx calmly.
“Your only sister, too,” said Freddy.
“Yeah,” said Jinx.
“I tell you what,” Freddy said: “Let’s try the magic words again. Maybe she’ll come back.” And as he picked up the paper, Minx jumped back into the hat.
But the magic words didn’t work. When Freddy took off the paper, both he and Jinx professed to be unable to see her. And though she wailed and cried and protested and finally called them a lot of unladylike names, they still pretended she wasn’t there. At last Freddy said: “Well, there’s no sense staying here. We can come back later and try again.”
“Well, there is no sense staying here.”
“OK,” said Jinx. “I expect she’ll come back some time—she always does. Of course, she’s really a darned nuisance with all that everlasting gabble of hers, but I’d sort of hate to lose her entirely, at that.”
“Sure you would,” said Freddy. “Sure you would. After all, a sister’s a sister, no matter how silly.”
“Ain’t it the truth,” said Jinx.
Minx followed them up to the barnyard. She had stopped yelling by this time, because there’s not much satisfaction in bawling people out if they don’t hear you. I guess she had thought at first that Freddy and Jinx were just putting up a game on her. But when she reached the barnyard she was really convinced that she was invisible. For on his early calls that morning Freddy had warned all the other animals to pretend that they couldn’t see or hear her, and so when the three of them walked into the cow barn, the cows said good morning to Freddy and Jinx and then asked where Minx was.
“Vanished,” said Freddy sadly. “Disappeared. Dissipated into nothingness like the smoke from yesterday’s kitchen fire.” And he told them about it.
“Tut, tut,” said the cows together; “how dreadful!”
“Very sad,” said Freddy. “Can’t even have a funeral, you see.”
All the while Minx was walking up and down in front of them, lashing her tail angrily, and saying: “But I’m right here! Oh, darn you, Freddy! I wish I’d never come to this horrible farm!”
“Very sad for you, Jinx,” said Mrs. Wiggins soberly. “But we must look on the bright side of things. Minx was a charming person, but if you were with her very long you had to wear ear plugs.”
“Blessings sometimes come in disguise,” said Mrs. Wogus piously.
“Of course,” said Mrs. Wurzburger, “if there’s anything we can do, don’t hesitate to call on us.”
“Thank you, my friends; thank you,” said Jinx in a subdued voice. “You are all very kind. I suppose it will take some time for me to get used to the fact that Minx is no longer with me. Not to hear her voice going on, and on, and on …” He put a paw over his eyes.
The cows drooped their heads mournfully. Minx, with her tail sticking straight up in the air, walked past them, and the tip of her tail just brushed across their noses and tickled them. If she hadn’t been so scared and mad, she would probably have thought of some better way of bothering them, for of course they all exploded at once in a tremendous sneeze, and Minx was blown right out of the barn door.
Freddy and Jinx exploded too, in a laugh. They straightened out their faces, and Freddy said: “Pardon my unseemly merriment. Unforgiveable at a time like this.”
“Not at all, not at all,” said Jinx. “I’m sure Minx would want us to be gay.”
“I don’t know what got into us,” said Mrs. Wogus. “Touch of hay fever, perhaps.”
“Your sister is not to be sneezed at,” said Mrs. Wiggins.
All the rest of the day Minx had a pretty hard time. Wherever she went, the animals ignored her completely. She would try to break into a conversation with some bragging remark about something she had seen or done, just as she used to do, but the animals went right on talking without looking at her or giving any sign that they knew she was there. To Minx the queerest thing about it was that they were so often talking about her. That wouldn’t have surprised her so much if they had been praising her, for of course she thought that she was pretty wonderful. But the things they were saying weren’t nice at all. The first few times she heard someone say that she was a pest, and that it was a fine thing for everybody that she had vanished, she was angry and said to herself: “Pooh, they’re just jealous of my superior brains!” But after a while it bega
n to sink in that she wasn’t nearly as popular as she had thought. And along in the afternoon she went back to the bank and curled up in a chair and tried unhappily to take a nap.
Freddy and Jinx, in the meantime, had hitched up Hank and driven down to Centerboro to get the sawing-in-two box and other magic paraphernalia. On the announcement board in front of the movie theatre was a big sign:
SIGNOR ZINGO
Formerly with Boomschmidt’s Stupendous
and Unexcelled Circus
Offers an evening of
REAL MAGIC
Conjuring, Mind-reading, Illusions
Recently on this stage an amateur performed certain simple, rather childish tricks. Now come see a professional performance.
Tuesday, Sept. 2 8 P.M.
Admission 50¢
CHALLENGE
To any person or animal who can duplicate, or explain, any feat which I perform, I will give $10 in cash for each trick so exposed.
(signed) ZINGO
The three animals read it in silence. Then they looked at one another.
“My good grief!” said Hank. “Why, that’s kind of an insult, ain’t it, Freddy? Amateur—ain’t that a fighting word?”
“Well, not really,” Freddy said. “It’s true. But he’s not a very good sport, calling my tricks childish.”
“The big yap!” Jinx snarled.
“He’s trying to make himself look like a good sport with that ten-dollar offer,” said Freddy. “But he knows I can’t duplicate his tricks. And though I can sort of guess how some of them are done, I can’t really explain them. We know the sawing-in-two trick, but of course he won’t take a chance doing that one.”
“I’d like to give him a piece of my mind,” said Hank. “With a couple of good hard iron horseshoes on the side.”
“He isn’t going to get away with it,” Jinx said. “We’ll-we’ll … what’ll we do, Freddy?”
Freddy shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We can’t explain or … Hey, wait a minute!” he said. “I bet I know! Look, are you two boys with me? I mean, it’ll be burglary, sort of, and maybe trouble if we get caught, but—”
“Burglary?” said Jinx. “Boy, I’ve always wanted to burgle. Runs in the blood; my father went into burgling when he lost his voice and had to give up singing. He could go up the side of a house like he was walking up Main Street, and he could ooze through a crack you’d swear wouldn’t accommodate a garter snake. But he oozed once too often. Lost half his tail when Mrs. McLanihan’s icebox door blew shut just as he was starting home with a couple pounds round steak. Couldn’t keep his balance on fences and roofs after that with only half a tail.”
“OK, OK,” said Freddy impatiently. “Your reminiscences of happy family life are delightful, but we’ve got a lot of work to do. How about you, horse? I don’t mean we’re going to steal anything. Just look over Zingo’s magic equipment.”
“Oh, sure,” said Hank. “Anything you say, Freddy—burglary or what not. As long as it ain’t murder. I kind of feel we ought to draw the line at murder.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Freddy with a grin. “You’ve got to draw it somewhere, Hank. Well, come on; let’s get that stuff. I want to go see the sheriff before we start home.”
Chapter 11
Minx, in the meantime, had been doing a lot of thinking. Usually she didn’t think much; she didn’t have time because she talked so incessantly. It would be a good thing for a lot of people to be invisible for a little while. It had certainly been a good thing for Minx. For she found that the idea her friends on the farm had of her wasn’t at all the idea she thought they had. At first she didn’t believe it. But when you have heard fifteen or twenty animals all express the opinion that you are a bore and a stuck-up know-it-all and a general nuisance that ought to be pushed over a nice quiet cliff somewhere—well, you begin to wonder if perhaps it isn’t so.
All this was good for Minx. But some of the other thinking she did wasn’t good for her at all. For she began to think of all the advantages there were in being invisible. And there were quite a lot. She got up after a while and went back to the barnyard to make use of them.
She went over to the farmhouse and sat down on the back porch. Inside was a clatter of dishes where Mrs. Bean was setting the table. Also there were smells inside—smells of roast chicken and of gravy; and little wisps of these delicious smells seeped out through the keyhole and went right up Minx’s nose. She licked her chops. She was awfully hungry. Then she looked down at the generous saucer of milk Mrs. Bean had put out for her and made a face at it. Milk—pooh! Milk was for visible cats; invisible cats ate finer food. She sat still and waited.
Pretty soon Mr. Bean came stumping in from the barn and went in the back door, and Minx went in with him. The cats were in and out all day, so Mr. Bean never noticed her but went to the sink to scrub up for dinner. Minx ran into the dining room and jumped up on the table. The roast chicken was on a platter in front of Mr. Bean’s place, and beside it was a bowl of gravy. The gravy was too hot to eat, but the chicken … Minx licked it delicately. Just pleasantly warm. She went to work on a drumstick.
And at that moment Mrs. Bean came in.
Minx never knew exactly what happened then. It must have been a good deal like Charles’ experience in the hurricane. She had later a vague recollection of having been seized by the scruff of the neck, thrown to the floor, and then chased around the dining room, into the kitchen, under the stove, up the back stairs, down the front stairs … and then she was out in the barnyard, running for her life. It wasn’t until, aching in every muscle as much from the unaccustomed exercise as from the whacks of the broom, she was back in the chair at the bank, that it occurred to her that Mrs. Bean had seen her.
“Why, I don’t believe I’m invisible at all!” she said. She left the bank and went up along the road to the gate. Nobody was in sight in the barnyard. She crept cautiously up to the cow barn door and listened. And she heard Mrs. Wogus say: “Well, a joke’s a joke, but if you carry it too far it gets to be something else. And if we drive that poor cat crazy pretending she’s invisible—”
Georgie’s voice interrupted. “She’s crazy now, if you ask me,” he said. “Anybody’s crazy that tells such awful lies. Remember that story about how she went hunting in India and killed an elephant?”
“Maybe she talked him to death,” said Henrietta’s voice.
Minx didn’t listen to any more. She went back to the bank to plan her revenge. “You just wait, my fat friend!” she thought. “And you too, my darling little brother! You cooked this up between you. Well, wait till you get a taste of my cooking!”
Freddy and Jinx, in the meantime, had gone to call on the sheriff. They found him in his little office in the jail, deep in conversation with Mr. Ollie Groper, proprietor of the Centerboro Hotel.
“We’ll come back later if you’re busy,” said Freddy, but the sheriff said: “No, no; come in. Maybe you can help us. Ollie’s got some trouble on his hands and we’ve been discussin’ it for an hour, but for all the good it’s done, we might as well have been hollerin’ down a well.”
“The problem,” said Mr. Groper in a deep bass voice, “appears like it’s insoluble.” He was a large fat man with a large bald head and he sat in the sheriff’s armchair as if it had been built around him. He looked, Jinx said afterwards, as if he was all crated up and ready to ship.
“Well, let’s hear what Freddy’s got on his mind,” said the sheriff. “My guess is it’s got something to do with Zingo, and if so, we’ll all put our heads together and if we can’t work out some plan of action, why brains ain’t what they were when I was a boy.” He winked at Freddy. “Kind of upset about this show he’s giving, are you?”
“Why yes, we are,” Freddy said. “He and that Presto pulled a fast one on me last night.”
“Got into him for a hundred and thirty smackers,” put in Jinx.
“And I want to get back at him,”
Freddy continued. “So I thought, you being in town, you could maybe let me know when he moves all his magic apparatus over into the theatre, and then we could come down and … well, I’ve got a plan.”
“I bet you have,” said the sheriff enthusiastically. “I bet you have!” He turned to Mr. Groper. “If you want to get rid of Zingo, Ollie, my advice to you is to hire Frederick (which is this pig) and Wiggins (which is a cow that ain’t here at the moment) to do the job for you. For it’s a detective job, and they’re far and away the best detectives in the county. O’ course, far as I know there ain’t any other detectives in the county, but I don’t take back a word of what I just said.”
Mr. Groper nodded his big head slowly. “I been apprised previous of their investigating faculties,” he said. “Proclivities which I can truly say ain’t usually inherent in the bovine or porcine races.”
“Wow!” said Freddy, and caught himself up quickly. “I mean, yes sir, I guess that’s so. But you—you’re having trouble with Zingo, Mr. Groper? He’s staying at your hotel, isn’t he?”
“A temporary resident of that caravansary,” Mr. Groper replied, “which I would gladly expedite his departure to a higher sphere with a club, only it ain’t feasible.”
“You mean you want to get rid of him?” Freddy asked. “Why don’t you throw him out?”
“Mister,” said the hotelkeeper, “when a guest discovers cyprinodontidae in the milk pitcher and conjures arachnids and larvae of some of them lepidoptera onto the edge of the salad bowl, you let him do what he pleases.”
“Yeah,” said Freddy weakly, “I guess you do.”
The sheriff laughed. “Guess I’d better tell you,” he said. “Ollie here got a dictionary by the tail when he was in school and he ain’t never let go. Why, this is the trouble. Zingo went to stay at the hotel, and everything was smooth as butter until the end of the first week Ollie give him his bill. Zingo sticks it in his pocket and goes in to dinner. Pretty soon out comes the waitress with a pitcher of milk, and she shows Ollie how there’s a minnow swimmin’ around in it.”
Freddy the Magician Page 7
