The first circus of the season had come to town. Now, when a circus strikes New Haven, Yale men take it in with a vengeance. Something about a circus sets their coltish blood to dancing, and they are bound to patronize it. They take in all the side-shows, too, and it is apparent that the most of them enjoy the side-shows more than the performance under the main tent.
Behold Jack Ready and a party of kindred spirits taking in the “sights.” Of course, Ready has dragged Joe Gamp along, and whenever he can start the New Hampshire youth to “haw-hawing” he delights to do so. Starbright is with them, and he smiles and enjoys everything. Big Bingham chaffs with Ready, who is sometimes witty, sometimes “chestnutty,” but always eccentric.
“Come in and behold Melba, the most beautiful woman snake-charmer in the world!” cries the barker outside the side-show.
“Your royal giblets,” says Ready, “didst ever see Weary Wiggins? Nay? Then be careful of thy statements, for he is something of a snake-charmer himself.”
“G’wan!” retorts the barker. “Wot yer givin’ us! You wouldn’t know a snake-charmer if you saw one. Now, honest, did yer ever see one?”
“Well, you are very nearly the first I’ve ever seen,” Ready answered breezily. “Your nose is your own advertisement, sir. You can provide your own snakes with a pint of bug-juice.”
“T’ink ye’re smart, don’t yer!” retorted the fellow angrily. “Some time yer’ll get yer face dented if you shoots off yer lip so free. If I had time, I’d ’tend to der job meself.”
“I am very sorry you haven’t the time. I’d like to go out behind the big tent and soothe you to sleep. I am a very soothing chap.”
To this the barker made another angry retort, and Jack and his friends laughed, bought tickets, and entered the tent.
When they were inside Jack began to lecture on the “wonders” there assembled. He gave them a little “game of talk” about the tattooed man, the Chinese giant, the “armless acrobat,” the fat woman, and other freaks on exhibition. When, however, he started in to call attention to a long-whiskered farmer from the country he came near getting into trouble.
“You sassy young cub!” roared the old farmer, clenching his fists and glaring at Jack, “I’d good mind to smash ye!”
Jack looked very frightened.
“Honestly?” he gasped. “You wouldn’t do that to a poor orphing bhoy, would you?”
“Think ye’re funny tellin’ folks about the wind blowin’ through my whiskers, don’t ye?” snorted the farmer. “When you have more whiskers, mebbe ye’ll hev some more brains to go with ’em!”
“That’s right, by gum!” agreed Gamp, sidling up to the farmer. “Give it to him, mum-mister. He’s sassed mum-most everybuddy.”
This made the old farmer fiercer than ever, and he shook his fist under Jack’s nose, roaring:
“Dang my boots! but I believe I will smash ye!”
His wife, a mild little woman with an umbrella, now grabbed him by the arm, timidly crying:
“Don’t ye git into a row, Joel! The last time you was to town you got into trouble with these here college chaps, an’ they made the perlice believe ye was crazy. Came nigh puttin’ ye inter a ’sylum.”
“Ah-he!” cried Ready. “’Tis he!” And he pointed a darting finger at the farmer. “The police have been looking for you ever since. Will somebody call an officer? Wait; I’ll do it.”
“No, ye don’t!” shouted the farmer, clutching Jack’s arm. “I’ll thrash ye if ye open your mouth to do it!”
“Oh, Joel! Joel!” quavered his wife. “You’re alwus gittin’ inter trouble! Come erway before ye git arrested!”
She tried to drag him away, but he turned on her savagely, snarling:
“Don’t be such a dratted fool, old woman! Let me alone, can’t ye!”
Then she fired up.
“Joel Haskins,” she exclaimed, “don’t ye darst to call me a fool right before all these people! If ye do, I’ll pull ev’ry hair outer your old head!”
“Take your hands offen me!” he retorted. “All women is fools!”
“Oh, what a libel on the fair sex!” said Ready. “A man who will speak thus to a beautiful and charming wife deserves to be drawn and quartered! I don’t see how such an old brute ever succeeded in marrying such a refined lady.”
“He is an old brute!” agreed the wife.
“Don’t call me an old brute, Marthy Jane!” roared the man savagely.
“You called me a fool first.”
“Well, ain’t ye showin’ it? Heaven sakes! but I’ve put up with enough of your nonsense!”
“Oh, hev ye?” she shrilly screamed. “And you will talk like this before folks, will ye?”
Then, in her excitement, she swung her umbrella aloft and brought it down on his head with a whack.
The delighted college boys roared with laughter and urged her on. She hit him again.
“Hey! Stop it!” he squawked, holding up his armsto protect his head. “I never saw such a dratted woman!”
She smashed the umbrella to pieces before the showmen could stop her. Then both the farmer and his wife were escorted from the tent, the woman sputtering at him and he growling back at her.
Ready looked sad and regretful.
“Alas!” he sighed. “At least, she was once a lass. She has outgrown it somewhat!”
“Ready,” said a voice, “you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You caused the trouble and ruined the show for those old people.”
Frank Merriwell was the speaker, and, despite his attempt to reprove Jack, he could not help smiling.
“It is ever thus,” sobbed Jack. “Whenever I am having my loveliest time somebody comes along and calls me down.”
At this moment the announcement was made that Melba would give her wonderful performance with the snakes. The lecturer explained that one of the snakes was a mighty python “ya-a-ahmsteen feet in length.”
Melba arose. She was really pretty for a professional snake-charmer, and could not have been more than twenty-three or four years old.
“Yum, yum!” said Ready. “Would you believe it! She’s the first one I ever saw who didn’t look like a snake-charmer.”
“She’s new at the business,” declared Frank.
Melba opened the case in which the snakes were kept. She took them out one by one and twined them about her arms, waist, and neck. She was very pale while she did it, and the boys could see that she trembled a little. No one guyed her. For once the irrepressible Ready was silent.
Bart Hodge had entered the tent and was near the platform.
Having handled the smaller snakes, Melba put them back in the case and prepared to take out the python. She was more agitated than ever.
Frank decided that the girl really was afraid of the snakes, and pitied her. The act was unpleasant to him, and he turned away.
Carefully the girl took out the python. The snake was a large one, and those near the stand fancied he seemed rather more active than the others. With care Melba handled the great snake, forcing a smile to her painted lips. The reptile coiled and moved its head.
All at once, without warning, Melba dropped to the platform in a dead faint. Women screamed and men shouted and pushed away.
Hodge was close to the platform, and he saw the girl had fallen on the snake in such a manner that the weight of her body was squeezing it. This was angering the snake.
Instantly Bart leaped onto the platform and liftedthe unconscious girl to take her weight off the serpent, at the same time calling for an assistant to come and give him aid.
Then something happened that filled all beholders with horror. With a swift movement, the snake threw a coil round Bart’s legs. Another shout of horror went up from the men. The python twisted about Hodge with great swiftness, its head rising higher and higher.
Such snakes have strength in their natural state to crush the ribs of an ox. If the thing were to twine itself about Bart’s body and exert pressure the young college man would be killed before the eyes of the horrified spectators.
Out of the throng leaped a youth, who hastily snatched from his hip pocket a shining revolver.
It was Hock Mason. The Southerner leaped to the edge of the platform, with the weapon uplifted.
“Steady!” said Bart, in a calm voice. “Got to smash his head with the first shot! If you don’t——”
Mason had raised his revolver, but he could not get a shot at the head of the snake without great risk of fatally wounding Bart.
“Here!” he cried, dropping the weapon. “I’ll hold the creature! Somebody take that pistol and shoot its head off!”
Then, without the least hesitation, he grasped the snake with both hands just back of its head.
Fortunate, indeed, it was that Frank Merriwell was at hand. He had the revolver almost as soon as it touched the ground. As Mason held the snake’s head for a moment two shots rang out, and both bullets hit the reptile’s head fairly. Its coils loosened from Bart, and Mason flung the squirming thing aside, where it thrashed and twisted on the ground.
“Thank you, sir,” said Hodge to Mason.
“Don’t mention it, sah,” said Mason politely.
Never again as long as he lived would Bart Hodge say that the man from South Carolina lacked nerve. Whatever else could be said of him, that accusation could not be made against him.
Both Hodge and Mason were the heroes of the day.