Dapples of the Circus/Chapter 11
THE good ship Rio de Janeiro was ploughing her way vigorously through the blue Caribbean. A brisk wind on her stern was making the swell in her wake even more pronounced. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining gloriously, and a myriad of sparkling diamonds and rainbow shapes trailed in the wake of the ship. The sky was perfect, and the whole scene seemed to Freckles to express gladness, as he sat on the hurricane deck reading an interesting book which Mr. Bingham had given him.
The Rio de Janeiro was not a circus ship, but a cattle boat. On her lower decks were nearly two thousand head of beef cattle on their way to the great markets of the United States. Just at present they were rather still, but at certain times of day, especially at morning and evening, their bellowing came up to the hurricane deck in an almost constant sound.
The fresh wind kept the smell of bilgewater away from the upper decks. Although the ship was a cattle boat, yet she carried about fifty passengers. She was equipped with a generous set of well-appointed cabins and a dining-saloon and all the other comforts. This was to accommodate South American merchants, who wished to make trips to the United States between the sailing times of the regular passenger boats.
Freckles looked very happy as he sat on the deck reading his book, but his mind did not seem to be wholly on what he was reading, for he occasionally smiled and looked as though he was journeying in dreamland, as indeed he was.
He was going back home, and without the rest of the circus, all of which had come about because of his trip to see Mr. Bingham in answer to that gentleman's urgent telegram. Freckles had really gone to that interview with considerable foreboding. What did Mr. Bingham want of him? So many things had happened to himself and Dapples since they had been with the circus that he was almost afraid. Mr. Bingham had always been very good, but perhaps he thought him a hoodoo and was going to fire him, and give his job of showing Sir Wilton to another boy who was more fortunate.
Such thoughts as these were racing wildly through Freckles's mind when he at last appeared at Mr. Bingham's office, which was nothing more than a small tent on the circus lot. Mr. Bingham greeted him cordially, but then he had always been cordial.
"Well, my boy, how are you?" asked the magnate, after he had finished looking over some papers upon which he was engaged.
"Fine!" returned Freckles.
"And the little horse?"
"He is fine also, but he is still in the sling. Sometimes I am afraid his leg will never mend."
"Oh, yes, it will," returned the circus owner confidently; "but I am afraid myself it will take some time. That was why I sent for you."
Here Freckles's heart began to pound so vigorously that he was afraid Mr. Bingham would hear it. Mr. Bingham's next words confirmed his worst fears, and actually made him turn pale and his hands tremble.
"I have been thinking," said Mr. Bingham reflectively, "that perhaps you ought to retire from the circus. You seem to be rather unlucky."
It was just as he had imagined. Mr. Bingham thought him a hoodoo. He was going to fire him and give his job of driving Sir Wilton to a luckier boy. The thing that he loved the most of anything in the whole world was to be taken away from him. Tears filled his eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Bingham, Mr. Bingham," he almost sobbed. "Don't fire me. I know I have been unlucky, but I am sure we will have better luck in the future. Sir Wilton is the only thing that I have in the whole world, and I haven't really got him, but I can't bear to leave him. I will work for less money, I will work for nothing, if you will only let me stay with him."
Mr. Bingham had reached over and clasped Freckles's hand warmly.
"Don't worry, boy. I haven't any notion of parting you and Sir Wilton, not an idea of it. I was just thinking of something else."
At this announcement Freckles's heart gave a great bound of gladness. So he was not to lose Sir Wilton. Perhaps it would be a pleasant trip to see Mr. Bingham after all.
"I have been thinking," said Mr. Bingham. Then he stopped and looked hard at Freckles, and a merry twinkle came into his eye.
"I have been thinking," continued Mr. Bingham, "that you and Sir Wilton have earned me a good deal of money in the past year and a half—probably much more than I paid for him originally. You have been faithful, and you love him. Both Mr. Williams and Big Bill say they never saw such a love between a boy and a pony."
"¥es," interrupted Freckles, "I think as much of him as though he was my brother, and he loves me more than any one else in the world. Him and me is pals, Mr. Bingham."
"Yes, I see," said Mr. Bingham reflectively. He took up a cigar and bit off the end of it and lighted it. "Yes, I see," he said.
Freckles waited in breathless suspense for his next words.
"What I have been thinking is this," continued Mr. Bingham. "This last accident may give Sir Wilton a crooked fore-leg. It will not hurt him at all for a phaeton or saddle pony, but it rather takes the gilt off him for the ring, so I have been thinking that perhaps I ought to retire: both you and him—put you out to pasture, so to speak."
"What, him and me not to show any more?" cried Freckles, his fears returning in spite of himself.
"Yes, something of the sort," returned the owner deliberately.
Freckles had braced himself for what Mr. Bingham might have to say next, but, even so, he had not been prepared for the manager's proposition, which left him speechless and finally sent him sobbing into the manager's arms.
"Well," said Mr. Bingham, "I have decided, since you and Dapples think so much of each other, to give him to you and to send you both home to the United States. I think that would be a better life for you anyway. What do you say, boy?"
For several seconds Freckles sat staring at the circus magnate, fearing that he had not heard aright; but by degrees the meaning of Mr. Bingham's words sank into his dazed mind. With the impulse of boyhood he fell upon his knees before the astonished Mr. Bingham and, burying his face in the manager's lap, began crying for joy.
"God bless my soul!" cried the astonished man. "Why, why, boy, I didn't think you cared so much as this, or I would have sprung it on you by degrees. I was really sort of working up to it, too. Didn't you smell a rat? Didn't you know what I was driving at?"
"Oh, no, no; I never dreamed of anything so beautiful and wonderful in my whole life. Why, Mr. Bingham, I have been praying to God every night that I might earn money enough to some day buy him. I have been saving up every cent for a year. Why, I haven't bought an ice-cream for months."
"Been a-saving up for that very purpose, have you? Well, you won't have to save up any more. Perhaps God heard your prayers and made me give him to you, or perhaps your Uncle Bingham heard about the horse fund. Well, it doesn't matter," he continued, rubbing his fat hands together happily. "The little horse is yours from this minute. Not only that, but I have engaged passage on the Rio de Janeiro for both you and Sir Wilton in two weeks. I am going to send 'you back right. I shall pay the passage money myself, and I am going to set you two up in business in the United States. Trust me to do a thing right when I do it at all."
Freckles had tried to thank Mr. Bingham, but it seemed to him now, as he sat on the hurricane deck of the steamer which was ploughing her way rapidly toward home, that his words had been all insufficient. He had stammered and blubbered and made a sorry mess of it, but he felt in some way that Mr. Bingham understood.
At this point in his reflections he closed his book, which he had not really been reading, and went down on to the second deck to see Sir Wilton and to tell him all about their plans once more. He had rehearsed them every day since they had sailed, but he got a great comfort from telling the Shetland over and over of how happy they were going to be, and of the wonderful life ahead.
He found Dapples in a nice small boxstall which had been fitted up especially for him. He was well bedded and had every comfort of a home stable. It was good to see him so finely provided for.
"Hello, little horse. Hello, Dapples," cried Freckles, putting his arm over the Shetland's neck and laying his face close to that of his pal. "We are going home, Dapples. Home, home, home, home. I have never had a home before, but I am going to have one now. We will both have a fine home, and we will be the happiest folks in the whole world."
Freckles always thought of Dapples as folks.
"Mr. Bingham has done everything for us. All we have got to do is just to work a little and enjoy ourselves all the rest of our lives."
At this point in the confidence Sir Wilton bethought him of sugar, and, thrusting his nose into Freckles's pocket, obtained the coveted lump.
"Dapples, our home is going to be in a little town in the Adirondacks where Mr. Bingham lived when he was a boy. Every one knows Mr. Bingham there. When they know he is our friend they will be mighty good to us. He says so."
Dapples nodded his head in assent. This was the way he always said Yes in the ring.
"Mr. Bingham's friend, Mr. Ellery, keeps a store and hotel in the town. He brings the mail from the depot to the town three times a day. He also brings passengers up to the town each day. You and I, Dapples, are going to live with him, and we are going to carry the mail and passengers, when there are any. Also perhaps we will deliver some groceries when they are rushed. It won't be hard work, Dapples, and I know you will like it."
Sir Wilton again nodded his head in assent.
"You dear little chum. How you always seem to understand everything that I say to you. You are the wisest horse in the whole world."
Here Dapples again nodded in assent, and this made Freckles laugh at his expense.
In some strange psychological way the Shetland knew that Freckles was laughing at him, so he put down his head and looked very sheepish. But Freckles brought the pony's face close to his own again, and concluded the interview.
"There is one thing, Dapples, that you may depend on. We will always stick together. No matter bow many other horses I may have, I shall never love any of them like you. And no matter how much money I am offered for you, I will never sell you. We belong to each other forever."
At this assurance Dapples again nodded his head sagely. It was a pact agreed to by both parties—they were to belong to each other forever.
The end