Read Ebook: The Children of Alsace (Les Oberlés) by Bazin Ren

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Ebook has 911 lines and 76560 words, and 19 pages

Motor Matt was passing the canvas walls of the menagerie tent of the "Big Consolidated" when a human form ricocheted over the top of it and landed directly in front of him on a pile of hay. The dropping of the man on the hay was accompanied by a wild sound which the king of the motor boys recognized as the trumpeting of an angry elephant. Following this came the noise of quick movements on the other side of the wall, and hoarse voices giving sharp commands.

Matt ran to the man who had fallen on the hay. He was sitting up and staring about him blankly.

"Well, if it isn't Archie Le Bon!" exclaimed Matt. "What sort of way is that to come out of a tent, Le Bon?"

"Couldn't help myself, Matt," was the answer. "A couple of tons of mad elephant gave me a starter. Gee! No more of that in mine. I'm glad this hay happened to be here."

Le Bon got up. Evidently his brain was dizzy, for he supported himself against a guy rope.

"Was it Rajah?" asked Matt.

"Yes."

"Don't you know any better than to fool with that big lump of iniquity?"

"I do now. Burton has offered twenty-five dollars to any one connected with the show who'll take Rajah out in the parade. Thought I'd try it, and I began by doing my best to make friends with the brute. Rajah was about two seconds wrapping his trunk around me and heaving me over the wall. I'm in luck at that, I suppose. The big fellow might have slammed me on the ground and danced a hornpipe on me."

"You don't mean to say that Burton is going to have Rajah in the parade!" exclaimed Matt.

"Says he is," answered Le Bon, "but I'll bet money he won't get any one to ride the elephant. You'd better trot along inside. Your Dutch pard, Carl, had a row with me. We both wanted to try and manage Rajah and annex the twenty-five, and the only way we could settle the question was by drawing straws. For all I know, Carl may be trying to make friends with Rajah now. Head him off, Matt, or there'll be a dead Dutchman on the grounds."

"Carl must be crazy!" exclaimed Matt, whirling around and darting under the canvas.

Archie Le Bon was an acrobat, and one of several brothers who had a hair-raising act in the circus ring; and if Archie couldn't manage Rajah, it was a foregone conclusion that Carl wouldn't be able to.

Still, it was like Carl to be willing to try something of the sort, and the young motorist was eager to call a halt in proceedings before it was too late.

Inside the "animal top" a crowd of men was belaboring Rajah with clubs and sharp prods. The elephant, chained to stakes firmly planted in the ground, was backing away as far as the chains would permit, head up and trunk in the air. Boss Burton, proprietor and manager of the show, was directing operations.

Matt's Dutch pard was very much in evidence. Armed with a piece of sharpened iron, he was hopping around like a pea on a hot griddle, taking a hack at Rajah every time he saw an opening. Joe McGlory was hopping around, too, trying to grab the excited Dutchman and snake him out of harm's way.

McGlory caught Carl by the heels and dragged him out into the centre of the tent, the Dutchman thrashing his arms and sputtering as he slid over the ground.

"Confound the brute!" roared Boss Burton; "I'll either take the kinks out of him and have him in the parade, or I'll shoot him. Leave him alone for half an hour, and then we'll maul him some more. How's Le Bon?"

"Not a scratch," Archie Le Bon answered for himself, coming in under the canvas. "But I might have had a broken head."

"You've had enough?" queried Burton.

"A great plenty, thank you. I'm no elephant trainer, Burton, and while I'd like to make a little extra money I guess I'll look for something that's more congenial."

"Dot's me, too," said Carl to Matt and McGlory. "I don'd vas some elephant trainers, I bed you. Vat a ugliness old Racha has! Dot trunk oof his hit me like a railroadt train."

"You were going to try and ride the elephant in the parade, Carl?" demanded Matt.

"I vas t'inking oof id vonce, aber never any more. He iss vorse as I t'ought."

"I heard what he was up to, Matt," put in McGlory, "and hit the high places for here. Arrived just in time to see Le Bon go out between the edge of the wall and the edge of the tent top. Sufferin' skyrockets, but it was quick! Everybody rushed at Rajah, and Carl was right in the thick of it. I thought he'd be smashed into a cocked hat before I could get hold of him."

"Who vas der feller vat left dot pucket oof vater in der vay?" grumbled Carl, mopping his tow hair with a red cotton handkerchief. "Id vas righdt under me ven I come down. I don'd like dot. Id vas pad enough mitoudt any fancy drimmings in der vay oof a pail oof vater."

"Well, it's a lesson for you to leave Rajah alone."

"T'anks, I know dot. Oof he vas der only elephant vat dere iss, I vouldn't haf nodding to do mit him. Vile I'm vaiding for dot fordune to come from India I haf got to lif, but I vill shdarve pefore I dry to make a lifing taking care oof Racha. Br-r-r, you old sgoundrel!" and Carl turned and shook his fist at Rajah.

Just at this moment Boss Burton stepped up to Matt and his friends.

"You don't mean it, Burton!" cried Motor Matt.

"Oh, don't I?" and there was a resolute gleam in the showman's eyes as he faced Matt. "You watch and see," he added.

"Rajah goes in the parade," shouted the angry showman, "or I put a bullet into him. I've got my mad up now."

"Who'll take him?" queried Matt.

"If I can't find any one to put him through his paces, by gorry I'll do it myself!"

"Then the Big Consolidated," said McGlory, "might as well look for another boss."

"See here, Burton," went on Matt, "you've been having the a?roplane tag your string of four elephants during the parade, and Rajah's been at the end of the string and right in front of the flying machine. You've got to give the machine another place. I'll not take chances with it, if Rajah's in the march. You ought to remember what a close call the brute gave us in Lafayette."

"Nobody's going to change places in the parade!" declared Burton.

He was a man of mercurial temperament, and could only be managed by firmness.

"And you can paste that in your hat, Burton," added McGlory. "What Pard Matt says goes."

"Say, Mr. Burton," spoke up a canvasman, stepping to the showman's side and touching his arm, "there's a dark-skinned mutt in a turban what wants ter see ye in the calliope tent."

Burton whirled on the canvasman.

"Dark skinned man in a turban?" he repeated. "Does he look like a Hindoo?"

"Dead ringer for one."

"No, he ain't. I know Ben Ali, and this ain't him."

"That tin horn won't show up among these tents in a hurry, Burton," said McGlory. "He knows he'll get what's coming, if he does."

"Then," continued Burton, "it's dollars to dimes it's Aurung Zeeb."

"Not him, neither," averred the canvasman. "This bloke wears a red tablecloth and carries a basket. Looks ter me like he had somethin' he wanted ter sell."

"I'll go and talk with him. Come on, Matt, you and McGlory."

Matt, McGlory, and Carl followed the showman under the canvas and into the calliope "lean-to." Here there was a chocolate-colored individual answering the canvasman's description. But he was not wearing the red tablecloth. Instead, he had spread it on the ground and was sitting on it. In front of him was a round, flat-topped basket, and in his hands was a queer-looking musical instrument.

"You want to see me?" demanded the showman, as he and the boys came to a halt in front of the Hindoo.

The latter swept his eyes over the little group.

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