THE TESTIMONIAL. It was impossible for Teddy to follow Tim's advice to "loaf around." His heart was so full of sorrow that his greatest desire was to go where those who might believe he had been a partner of the burglars could not see him; but since that was impossible, if he intended to obey the deacon's injunctions and present himself at the grand stand at the specified time, the next best thing was to remain behind the booth where his mother tried her best to cheer him. "It can't be possible that anything to your disadvantage has occurred, Teddy," she said as she held his hand for mutual sympathy. "Mr. Reaves would have sent me word at once if that had happened." "Perhaps he doesn't know about it. Uncle Nathan may have been talking with the deacon again, an' turned him against me." "I don't believe it would be possible for him to do such a thing. His reputation is not so good that "Then if he didn't do it some one else has, an' that makes it all the worse," Teddy replied, as he tried to force back the tears. At this moment the sorrowing ones were startled by hearing the voice of the man whom they had every reason to call their enemy, and an instant later Uncle Nathan stood before them. "Well," he said in what sounded more like a snarl than anything else, "you see the old skinflint did jest what he promised, an' he'll see to it that the deacon don't stay on your bail very long unless I get my rights." "What do you mean by your rights?" Mrs. Hargreaves asked. "I lent this ungrateful boy the money to start him in a business where he's made more in a week than I ever could in a year. Then he helped people to rob me, an' after all that I made what any man must call a fair offer. See how much I've lost by him, an' then think of my offerin' to straighten everything out by goin' in as his partner." "Why didn't you do this before the fair opened?" "I couldn't tell how it would turn out," the old man began, and then realizing that he was admitting something to his discredit, he added, quickly, "I mean I hadn't lost my money then, an' never suspected how he would wrong me." It seemed as if these last words drove Teddy to desperation, and he no longer-remembered the respect due to age. "Look here," he cried, angrily, rising, and standing directly in front of Uncle Nathan, "if you believe I'm a burglar, you can't want to be my partner. It was only after the fact of my having made considerable money was known that you offered any trade. If the venture had been a losing one you are the last person who would have taken hold of it. Now I'm under arrest on a charge made by you, who know I am innocent, an' we'll put an end to all this talk. Don't come where my mother and I am; do the very worst you can, an' some day I'll have my innings." "You threaten, eh?" "That's exactly what I'm doing. I have leased this piece of ground until to-morrow, and warn you that it'll be mighty uncomfortable if you show your nose here again. Go now an' go quick!" "That's right, Teddy," Tim shouted in a tone of delight from the opposite side of the booth. "Give it to him hot, an' I'll do my share. If you don't want to tackle the job till after the trial, say the word an' I'll sail in, for it gives me a pain to see him around." Teddy made no reply to this generous offer; but Uncle Nathan stepped back very quickly as if fearing an immediate attack. "You won't be so bold to-morrow," he snarled, shaking his fist in impotent rage, and then he disappeared from view amid the crowd that had begun to gather. Both Teddy and his clerk thought it very singular that business should be so good on this day, when the majority of the other fakirs were comparatively idle, and also in view of what had been said against the proprietor of the cane-board. Yet the people gathered around by scores, all intent on patronizing the boys, and at the same time embracing every opportunity to display their good will. Teddy and his mother remained partially screened from the gaze of the curious until nearly two o'clock, when Dan, looking decidedly troubled, arrived. "I suppose we've got to go to the grand stand an' find out what the deacon wants," he said, mournfully. "My boss told me that we must be there on time, an' we might as well start." "I want to have it over as soon as possible," Teddy replied. "Nothin' that comes can be any worse than waitin' here thinkin' of what may happen." The two boys walked either side of Mrs. Hargreaves as they went to meet the deacon, and it seemed very much as if the majority of the people present knew what was about to occur, for the sad-visaged It was exactly two o'clock when they arrived at the stairway leading to the grand stand, and there they were met by the leader of the band from the Run, who said with a mysterious manner as he opened a gate leading to the track in front of the judges' stand: "You are to come this way." "Where's the deacon?" Teddy asked. "Waiting for you." Without further explanation the musician led the three to a spot where all could see them, and to the intense surprise of the sorrowful-looking party, the throng assembled on the benches greeted them with the most hearty applause. "You are to come with me, Mrs. Hargreaves," the conductor said, as he escorted her to one of the front seats, and Teddy and Dan stood as if stupefied, gazing in dismay at the sea of faces in front of them. Before the boys had sufficiently recovered from their bewilderment to be able to speculate upon what was to happen Deacon Jones came down the steps until he reached a place where all could see him and there began a speech which caused at least two of that assemblage to gaze at him in open-mouthed astonishment. The manager of the fair did not intend to neglect He first explained to the spectators that Teddy had taken upon himself the business of fakir simply that he might aid his widowed mother. Then he detailed the loss of the fifteen dollars, and finally broached the one important matter, that of the scene on the creek, when the three women were rescued from drowning. By this time the cheeks of Teddy and Dan were flaming red, and if he had been charging them with the most atrocious crimes they could not have looked more guilty or uncomfortable. "As you all know," he said, in conclusion, "we have met here to see bravery and a spirit of self-sacrifice rewarded. On behalf of the ladies whose lives were saved by these little heroes I am about to present Edward Hargreaves and Daniel Summers with one hundred dollars each. In addition to that amount the managers of the fair and several gentlemen who do not care to have their names made public, have made up a purse of one hundred and eighty dollars to be divided equally between them. It is most gratifying to me that I have been selected as the instrument through whom this testimonial is presented, and in behalf of my brother officers as well as myself I will state that these brave boys As he concluded, the deacon walked with a majestic bearing down to the bewildered boys, presented each with a well-filled pocketbook and then waved his hand as a signal for the band, every member of which did his best to make the music heard above the rounds of applause intended for the blushing fakirs. In the meantime the people came down from the benches to congratulate the life-savers, and for fully an hour the two were forced to remain there listening to words of praise which they felt were not warranted by their exploit on the creek. Among the most welcome of these enthusiastic visitors was Jacob Sweet, and he said, heartily: "I heard of this little performance jest in time to get here before that long-winded speech was begun; but what pleases me the most is that I was ahead of the whole gang, an' started our little blow-out when it wasn't known you had so many friends. I'll see you to-night, of course, an' I must go now, for the bouncer has been around tellin' that you've been sleepin' in my tent, an' I count on a good payin' crowd this afternoon." It was considerably past three o'clock when the boys and Mrs. Hargreaves returned to the cane-board, looking very much different than when they left it, and Tim cried as they came up: "I've heard all about it, an' what I want to know is, where was old Nathan while that speechifyin' was goin' on?" "I saw him when we first arrived," Mrs. Hargreaves replied, "but he left a few moments later, although I have no doubt that he remained where he could hear all that was said without being seen." "That's where he was wise. It wouldn't be very pleasant for him to show himself now, 'cause everybody is down on him after what the deacon said." Dan was obliged to return to his duties, and he whispered to Teddy before leaving: "I tell you what it is, old feller, this has been a reg'lar puddin' for us, an' I'd give a good deal to see another jest like it." "You're all right, but I expect after this Uncle Nathan will be so mad he'll make me a pile of trouble." "Don't worry about that; his claws are cut now. I'll be back in time to go to supper." When he departed Teddy had an opportunity to say a few words to his mother before she returned home on the stage, which was advertised to leave at four o'clock, and while he did this all thought of being under arrest was put far from his mind because of the joy at what he was now able to perform. "Never mind what happens to me," he whispered. "I've now got nearly money enough to pay off all "I'm thinking more of the praise you earned than the money, Teddy. It was very sweet to hear the deacon say so much to you before all those people." "Then both of us will be awfully jolly to-night, an' to-morrow I'll be home, an' bring Dan with me." "Invite him to stay just as long as he wishes, and I will have a nice supper ready when the last stage arrives." Teddy gave his mother nearly all the money he had, including the "testimonial," and as she walked away he said to Tim: "I'm willin' to be arrested, an' put into jail a good many days for the sake of being able to help her as I can do now." |