Beadle's Dime Library, No. 406 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ie or ~ —————— SSE = a eS Se ee re eer be ES AE A A Sra an ee Oe ee CO ees ee eee coe. ¢ ’ ~*~ - “ - Old Pop Hicks, Showman. ‘ed witticisms with the riders and ladies of the rival parade, as they passed. His own show was coming up another street, and Pop was irresolute what to do, when Moone pulled his arm. ‘* Make a bold stroke,” he said, ‘‘ and find out if they really know what they’rs about, Then yowll know.” Pop nodded and touched up the piebald with ¥ the whip. ‘*The man driving is the guy that wanted to draw a pistol,” he said; ** but I guess he was too drunk to know who grabbed him, Ill try ’em with some dodgers.” The old man drove boldly out by the rival procession, recognized by many on the side- walks, for he was an old favorite, and saluted with clapping of bands and cries of: ‘Bravo, Pop! Hooray for Pop Hicks!” The party in the drag never turned their heads his way, till Moone, with a dextrous fling, sent a whole fistful of bills into the drag, an act which raise a cheer from the crowd. Pop watched the drag party keenly as he pass- ed by, and looked straight up into the face of the driver. It was Stone, the man he had put out, looking much the same as he had been, but for a certain fixity of color on the cheek near the eyes, which made the old man mutter: ‘* By the hookey! He’s made up, Moone, He must have been in our line.” Moone looked up also, ** He’s had his black eye painted, that’s all. I wonder if he knows who gave it to him?’ Pop shrugged his shoulders and drove on. The driver had not deigned to cast a glance his way, but the fair man next to him had looked down on him with a certain supercilious scorn that made Pop smile to himself. When he had passed their parade he turned a corner to meet his own. “By gum, Moone,” he said, ‘‘I ain’t a-goin’ to ba bested no more. I’m goin’ to bring ’em up side by side, and let the people see which is the best show, for all their four-in-hands,” With that he dashed ahead of his own column, and switched it off to another street, by whlch it would approach the public square of the town from the opposite side at the same time as the ** Show of all Shows,” meeting it face to face, ; something he had not yet tried with Bownsse. To carry out his plan he had to trot his teams, anil, as they rattled ahead, the beasts in the pen cages began to roar, the people began to 0 } runand cheer, and other people came flocking in from side streets, while Pop Hicks, smiling with triumph, cracked his whip over the big piebald, and Moone sent the ‘ flyers” shooting through the air like flocks of butterflies. On they went, with a thunder and crash and bang, the people leaving the other parade by hundreds to find out what was the matter, and when they finally dashed into the square they found it packed with crowds running to meet them, while the other column was emerging from the opposite side street, well-nigh deserted, but still headad by the fashionable four-in- nd. Then old Pop turned to Moone, pride in his eye, and remarked: ‘** Tbe old man’s hard to beat yet, hey? If it’s to be a fight, by gum! I believe in lettin’ ’em know it from the word go! Hey, Moone, hey?” Moone said nothing, but watched. The people in the other parade were evidently demoralized by the move, for they came on very slowly, and there was quite a gap between the drag and the head of the column. Pop Hicks’s people swept into the square and took possession of the principal part before Bownsse had made up his mind what to do, and thus the two shows came into direct compari- son, side by side, the very thing that Bownsse had most reason to fear on his own account. For he had, to tell truth, rather a sorry lot of performers, fitter for a side show or a Bowery museum than to come out as a regular cireus, He had General Egypt, the Giant; Mrs. Abi- gail, the Fat Lady; Mr. Cadaver, the Skeleton, with several pad-riders and a good hurdle-act man, But he had no show of tumblers: his horses were r, and his show was devoid of an elephant like King Philip; though he had a little fellow, about six feet high, that made shift to perform tricks. What he lacked in elephants, however, he made up in another feature—the grand card of poe ow, and lauded above all the rest on bills an ers. He had a cage of handsome lions and tigers with a pair of slim, graceful leopards, all of which were trained and handled by a gentie- man who, on the bills, was known as ‘*‘ Professor Noble, King of the Brute Creation,” and in pri- vate life as ‘‘ Charley Noble, the beast man.’ He rode in the cago with his beasts on parade, and occasionally brought out one of his lions, a creature with a magnificent mane that swept the ground when it stood, and rode with this lion on an open platform, his hand on the brute’s neck; as on that day. People gazed at the pair with awe in Pitts- ville Station, and even Pop Hicks, as they Haga said to Moone, with unconcealed admi- ration: ‘* Hey, but that man'’sa good card! Wish I had him myself. Wish I had him! Id make ‘em seo stars. Hey, Moone, hey?” Moone replied ig crag ‘**He’s a good card; but all they’ve got, sir. We've got four or five.” Pop grinned, not ill-pleased. ** You’re right, boy, right, quite right. Sowe have, so we have. But, all the same, that Noble’s a first-rate card. And he’s a good-looking fel- low, too. Hanged if he ain’t.” He was indeed, as he stood there by his lion, on the summit of the platform-car, in his crim- son tights and spangles, with a frank, bold face, close, curly brown hair, and Soke SAERRO mus- tache. He looked stout, and so well-rounded that Moone said: ‘* How fat he is!” Pop Hicks shook his head. ‘‘Fat! No,no. He’sas thin as a rail, boy. That’s all muscle. See when he moves. He’sa regular strong man. If the lions went back on him he could do a good cannon-ball act, and I'll bet on it. Hallo! who’s that he’s bowing to in our crowd? By Jiminy, if it ain’t—” He did not finish the sentence. The two columns were pascing in opposite di- rections, the performers pretending not to see each other, till Noble’s car came opposite the middle of Pop’s procession, where iin x Philip stalked along with his tusks chained down to his forelegs, Jim Perkins riding on his back, while Sally Hicks, Fanny Rounder, Tom Fowler and Ma’m’zelle Hippolyte rode together before the elephant. Then the handsome lion-tamer looked earn- estly at the procession, and Sally Hicks looked up at him, To Pop’s astonishment and indignation, he saw his saucy daughter kiss her hand and smile at Noble, while the lion-tamer, on his part, ex- — a profound and very graceful salutation er, Pop was speechless for a moment, then col- ored up red as fire, and ejaculated under his breath: ‘* Well, by gum! by gum! Ill soon stop that, by gum! oone?” ‘If I was you, I wouldn’t doany such thing,” was Mcone’s quiet reply. Pop seemed startled by what he said, for he ejaculated confusedly : ‘Hey? Why not, why not, why not?’ ** Because,” said the little man, dryly, ‘if you want that fish, there’s no surer way of catching if than on a hook baited with love; that’s all.” Pop turned and looked at him keenly, then stared at the rival show as if in a dream, till all had passed by, and .finally said, in a sober sort of way: ‘* Moone, by gum, I’m gettin’ old.” Moone grinned, ‘* When did you find that out?” ‘To-day, Moone, I’m getting old, and Sally’s growing to be a woman, by gum! AndI never seen it, by gum!” It seemed to set the old man thinking, for he said no more till the parade turned into the show-ground, five minutes ahead of Bownsse’s people, followed by a great crowd, Then he observed thoughtfully: ** Moon, ag got some good ideas. would kinder turn the tables on Bownsse i stole his best man.” Moone smiled dubiously. ‘‘Or if Noble stole Celestine, think of that?” , ICHAPTER IX. TREACHERY IN CAMP. THE afternoon show at Pop Hicks’s tent passed off splendidly, owing to the prestige he had gained by his parade, and the old showman had the satisfaction of seeing his rival’s crowd come out, looking slim, when he went off to his tea. He did not wait to see the last of Mr. Bownsse’s show, or he would have noticed the manager himself come out, in close conversa- tion with the sporting dude who had driven the ag, They parted at the door, and Stone said to Bownsse as he shook hands: ‘*Remember, we'll see you out of it at any hazard, and deposit the cash.” ‘All right, colonel,” responded Bownsse, as he went away, and then he betook himself to a little tavern on a side street, near his own show, where he found two or three quiet, shabby-look- ing men hanging around the doorway. They had the peculiar observant and furtive look of people who are accustomed to do a good deal of waiting round shows till their services are needed, with their eyes open to watch every- thing that goes on in the crowd. Bownsse beckoned to one of -them and took him aside to say: ‘* Ed, do you know any men in the other show to speak to?” Ed hesitated a moment. He did not know whether his principal would like his telling the truth that he did, so he answered: ‘* By sight, sir. I can do it if you want to,” Bownsse nodded. Mashing in the other show, Hey, Say, it we Did you ever “‘T want to see their elephant man. Can you get him to meet me on the quiet?” Ed looked proud. “Jim Perkins—Elephant Jim—you mean, sir? I or with him in a show last year. Know him well, Bownsse betrayed no satisfaction, for he did not want to make his men think their serviccs were worth more than the paltry pittance they received. He looked at his watch. ‘*Get him to meet me at the Porter House in ten minutes. Can you do it?’ Ed nodded respectfully. ‘* Yes, sir; Pll bring him, sir.” Then Bownsse, just to pass away the time, with the showman’s instinct of popularity, when it could be gained with no expenditure, added: “I’m watching you, Ed, and at the enc of the season I’m going to take care of the men whom I find I can trust. In ten minutes, Ed.” Then he strode away, looking around him with queer, absent-minded glances, a way he had, which was more than half affectation, and intended to convey the idea that he had a great deal on his mind. As for Ed, he went away to find Jim Perkins, the elephant man, his head whirling with vis- ions of permanent engagements at high salaries, soft berths in the box-office, and a hundred such illusions, common in the lower ranks of the show business, where many starve that one may fatten, Asa matter of fact, he had met Jim several times on the road, and had bad more than one drink at Jim’s expense, for the elephant man had a big salary, and, being a bachelor, spent it free- ly in fine clothes and much whisky. Ed had but little trouble in running Jim down that day. He knew that the elephant man always lodged near the stable, in case his beast should get troublesome, und he found bim just taking a cocktail at the bar of a small, second-class hotel, across the way from the show lot. Jim looked around as he came in, and nodded familiarly. ‘* Take suthin’, Ed?’ Ed couldn’t refuse, so he came up by his big friend and whispered to him, as the cocktail was being made: ‘*Say, Perk, I want to see you outside.” Perkins looked down at him with the sharp, furtive scrutiny of the showman. ‘Allright. Here’s luck!” The drinks dispatched, they went outside, and Ed delivered his m e. ‘* He wants to see you bad, Jim, for next sea- son. We ain’t done no biz to speak of, and you kin get anything you want!” Jim considered a little, and finally said, in the coarse, insolent way of a man who knew his own value: “Let him come tome. I’m all right as I am. If be wants me, let him come here.” ‘* But it'll be all over if ye do,” urged Ed. ‘* It’s got to be done on the quiet, Jim. He ain’t stopping at the Porter House. We just goin to take a drink, that’s all. Come along with me. It won’t harm you.” So Jim allowed himself to be persuaded into a trip to the Porter House, where, as soon as they asked for Mr. Bownsse, the clerk directed them up-stairs to a private parlor, and Ed piloted up his friend. He did not venture to go in himself, but putin his head at the door to say: ‘* Mr. Perkins is come, sir,” “All right. Go back and answered Bownsse from wi heard another voice say: ‘‘Is that the man?” So he knew some one else was inside with the manager, and wondered who it could be as he went owey. oe As for Elephant Jim, he strode in with his hat on his head, and nodded familiarly to Bownsse, saying: ‘* How do, guvner? What's the racket?” He had as many diamonds as Stone, and felt equal to all of them, so he could afford to be lordly in his ways. Bownsse affected to be very glad to see him and shook hands cordially, while he introduced Stone, who also put on his sweetest smile. A long conversation ensued between the trio, which resulted in Elephant Jim saying, in a doubtful sort of way: “Tl try what I kin do with Tom Fowler, gents, and Fanny, but I can’t promise, You kin have me on the terms I said, and not a cent less; that’s flat.” Stone laid bis hand on the big man’s knee to say, softly: ‘There’s another way we can manage it, Mr. Perkins, if you have the brains I think you have.” ‘** And what’s that?” ‘*'You have a pretty troublesome brute in that elephant, haven’t you?” You bet. I have to watch him all the time, and he’s been getting worse since we’ve been on the road.” . # see you chain his foreleg to his tusk. What or | et your supper,” n, and shen Ed JOO Comic a,