The idea of a party in the museum tent, where there would be no guests save fakirs, struck Teddy as being very comical, and he laughed heartily despite the fact that he was still virtually a prisoner in the meshes of the law; but at the same time he did not think Mr. Sweet was really in earnest when he made the proposition.
It was not many moments, however, before he understood that the party was to be given in the most elaborate manner possible.
On arriving at the tent Mr. Sweet sent the bouncer out with invitations to such of the fakirs as remained on the grounds all night, or lived in the immediate vicinity, and at the same time the clown started for the town in order to purchase refreshments.
"Now, you boys are to take right hold an' help the best you know how," the proprietor of the museum said as he pulled off his coat and vest preparatory to making ready for the feast. "If them as comes want to sit down it must be on the ground, owing to the lack of chairs, therefore it don't make much difference if the table is a trifle high."
"We have only one knife," said Mr. Sweet, to the amusement of the boys, "and it must serve for all hands."
To the surprise of the boys he proceeded to convert the wagon into a "festal board" by first pulling it into the center of the tent, and then removing the sides. Over the floor of this newspapers were spread, and two plates, three forks, one knife, and four tin dippers were placed on the impromptu cloth.
"The provisions will be cut ready for eating," Mr. Sweet explained, "so one knife must serve for all hands, and it won't hurt any of the crowd if they're obliged to take turns using the dippers."
The clown returned before the guests began to assemble. He brought cold sausage, sliced ham, cold fried potatoes, sweet crackers, cake, pie, and a quantity of lemons and sugar.
Contrary to his expectations, Mr. Sweet did not think this assortment sufficient for the kind of a dinner he proposed to give, and the messenger was forced to return in search of cheese, pickled pig's feet, sardines, and milk for the coffee.
Matters were in a decided state of confusion when the first of the guests arrived. Mr. Sweet, not troubled by the absence of dishes, had placed the various articles on the wagon-table in the brown paper coverings as they had been received, and it was upon his skill as a maker of coffee that he based his reputation as a host.
Therefore everything was neglected for this one important thing, and the proprietor was standing over the oil stove with a look of grave responsibility on his face when the owner of the envelope game and his assistant arrived.
"The boys will take care of you," he said, hurriedly, bending over the huge pot to inhale the odor, in order to know exactly how the berries were adapting themselves to the infusion, and, much to his surprise, Teddy found himself the one especial feature of the party.
All on the ground had evidently heard of his arrest, for each new arrival asked concerning the events of the evening, and, what was more to the purpose, so far as he was concerned, all seemed to think his troubles were only temporary.
"You'll come out of it all right," the manager of the largest sandwich booth said, confidently, as he entered with his hat on one side of his head and a cigar held in his mouth at an angle of forty-five degrees. "I heard of your uncle last year, when he tried to make trouble for a friend of mine in the spittoon game, an' you can bet your bottom dollar that the people here are not going to take much stock in what he says."
"It seems they did, so far as to issue a warrant for my arrest," Teddy replied, with a mirthless smile.
"But that won't amount to anything. I hear you have got John Reaves as a friend, an' he comes pretty near runnin' things to suit himself in Peach Bottom. He helped my friend out of the scrape your uncle put him into, an' folks say there's no love lost between him an' Nathan Hargreaves."
"I want to get out of my trouble simply on the ground that I am not guilty," Teddy replied. "If I am charged with aiding burglars, there's precious little consolation in being set free simply because people do not like the man who made the charge."
"Nobody believes you guilty, and for the matter of that I'm certain Hazelton had nothing to do with the job. His game ain't exactly square; but he don't go around breaking into stores."
Teddy was on the point of telling that Long Jim had been arrested because of the burglaries committed; but he remembered in time that this fact was as yet a secret, and remained silent.
The man who leased the only "Great African Dodger" was the next to arrive, and he also seemed to think it necessary to condole with the young fakir in his troubles, as did the remainder of the guests, and by the time all were assembled Teddy began to think his experience was only such as every other person in the tent had undergone at some time in his career.
"You see this is the way the matter stands," the whip man said, confidentially, while Mr. Sweet was bending all his energies to mixing the lemonade. "People think fakirs are the worst class of men in the world, whereas, if the matter was sifted right down, they'd find the class as a whole was honest because they couldn't afford to be otherwise. I'm not talking now about those who run strong games, like Hazelton; but ourselves who do a legitimate business. You've got canes an' knives to sell, while I deal in whips; now all we want is a fair show to dispose of our goods, an' we know everything must be done on the square, or there's bound to be trouble sooner or later, consequently we keep straight, an' take all the abuse which those who have come to swindle the folks deserve. Why, what, I ask you, would the managers of these fairs do if they couldn't get us to come up with our money for privileges? They couldn't pay expenses, an' that's the whole amount of the story. They run after us, an' yet when we come there's the same old howl about swindlers."
The man talked until he was literally forced to stop for lack of breath, and Teddy had not so much as spoken; but proved a good listener, which was all his condoler appeared to expect of him.
When the clown returned with the last installment of eatables there was nothing to prevent the assembled crowd from partaking of Mr. Sweet's hospitality. The coffee was done to a turn; the lemonade was neither too sour nor too sweet, and the proprietor of the museum summoned his guests to the feast by saying:
"Now turn to an' fill yourselves up. It ain't often I do this sort of thing; but somehow or other I've got a reg'lar admiration for our cane-board fakir, an' after comin' out as he has to-night it seems only right we should kinder spread ourselves. There's no liquor in the tent, which is as it should be, for I'm a temperance man, an' them as wants it can make hogs of themselves somewhere else. Take hold hearty, an' remember that this layout is in honor of them as did a good turn to the whole gang by savin' the lives of the women what would likely have drowned if there hadn't been any fakirs in the country."
This was an unusually long speech for the proprietor of the museum, and when it was ended he set an example to his guests by attacking the eatables as if he had not indulged in a square meal since the fair was opened.
Each person present imitated him, and Tim whispered to Teddy, when his mouth was so full of cake that it was only with the greatest difficulty his words could be understood:
"This is what I call a great snap, an' when I've been fakin' at the fairs long enough to get some money ahead I'll give fellers like us a good chance to fill up, the same as Mr. Sweet has done."
Dan was equally enthusiastic. In all his experience, which extended over two years at the very least, he declared that he had never seen so much done for a boy, and concluded by saying:
"There's no question, Teddy, but that you're a big gun here, an' I'll advise you to keep right on in this business."
"I've had enough of it," was the reply. "Such times as these are very nice; but think of what may happen when I'm brought up for trial. Who knows but Uncle Nathan can succeed in makin' folks think I'm guilty of helpin' the burglars, an' then what'll be the consequences?"
"I know he can't do anything of the kind, an' that's enough," was the confident reply; but yet it failed to satisfy the boy who had been bound over to appear at court.
The entire party appeared to be having the jolliest kind of a jolly time; but ever before Teddy's mental vision came the picture of himself in prison, and even the fact that Long Jim had been arrested failed to render him confident as to the final result.
Again and again was he called upon to reply as one after another wished him good luck in the case, and the amount of lemonade which was consumed on each occasion caused the clown to make a third visit to the town in order to purchase the wherewithal to satisfy the demands of the guests.
It was nearly midnight when the last of the revelers departed and the boys were called upon to help set the interior of the tent to rights.
"It hasn't been sich a bad time after all," Mr. Sweet said, musingly, as Teddy and Dan aided him in wheeling the wagon into place. "A man can remember an evening like this with pleasure, when liquor has been kept out of the bill of fare, an' who shall say that we're not better off than if our legs were so tangled as to make walking an impossibility?"
The barker's red nose was slightly elevated, much as if its owner could explain why spirits were superior to lemon-juice and water; but Mr. Sweet's question remained unanswered, and the party set about making the final preparations for the night.
"Poor Sam ain't here to be troubled by the goat, so we can set him loose," the proprietor of the museum said as he unfastened the rope from the neck of his pet.
"He'll have a great time pickin' up odds an' ends between now an' daylight, an' then feel so lazy that it'll be hard work to make him do his tricks."
"Do you suppose Uncle Nathan will be around in the morning?" Teddy asked as he lay down by the side of Dan and Tim.
"Not a bit of it; he got sich a dose to-night that I don't count on seem' him ag'in till this fair is ended, an' then I'm going to take a trip over to the Run for the express purpose of givin' him a piece of my mind."
"But suppose he should come, what shall I say?"
"Pay no attention to the old fool, an' above all, don't let him trap you into talking. Mr. Harvey will be here to-morrow, an' he can post you better than ever I could."
"Don't fuss about the thing at all," Dan replied, philosophically. "There's plenty here who know you hadn't anything to do with the burglaries, an' he won't have as much as a friend by the time the trial is ended."
"Dan comes pretty nigh being right," Mr. Sweet added, "an' now I want all hands to go to sleep, for there's one more day of this fair, an' we need to be somewhere near fresh, because to-morrow the dollars won't tumble without a good deal of coaxing. Good-night."
