The Girls of Central High on Lake Luna: or, The Crew That Won. Morrison Gertrude W.
likes the romantic and dark complexioned style in heroes. Get some walnut stain and a black wig."
"Why, he was playing in the streets, over in town," said Jess.
"That was just to advertise his act before the season opened," declared Chet. "So he told me."
"All right," Laura said. "The boat isn't due yet, so we might as well remain with you boys until it comes and so keep you out of mischief."
"But I really look so badly – " began Purt.
"Never mind. You won't meet the Maline girls here," snapped Jess, as though she were still very angry with him.
"Come on, Purt – be a sport," whispered Lance, with a wicked grin. "It won't cost you anything except what you give to the monkey – and that's a private affair between you and the monk you know."
It was true that Sweet was a "tight-wad," as the boys expressed it. He would spend any amount of money on himself, or to make a show; but liberality was not one of his virtues.
The young folks were not long in finding the booth, across which was painted a straggling sign reading:
TONY ALLEGRETTO AND HIS
PERFORMING MONKEY
"Which is the 'monk'?" demanded Lance, in a whisper, when they saw two very gaily dressed figures on the tiny platform before the booth.
The Italian himself was a short, agile young man, but not ill-looking. He had splendid teeth, and they showed white and even behind his smile, for his face was dusky and his mustache as black as jet, as was his hair. He was dressed in a gay, if soiled, Neapolitan costume, and the monkey was dressed in an imitation of his master's get-up. It was a large monkey, with a long tail and a solemn face, not at all the ordinary kind of monkey that appears with organ grinders.
The Italian began to grind his organ when he saw the accession of the young folk from Central High to his crowd of spectators. They made a goodly audience and Tony Allegretto – if that was his name – began his open-air performance.
"Aria from 'Cavalleria Rusticana' to inaugurate the performance of a monkey," chuckled Jess. "How are the mighty fallen!"
Suddenly Tony changed the tune and spoke a sharp word in Italian to the monkey. Instantly the creature went to the front of the platform, took off his cap, bowed to the audience with hand and cap upon his heart, and then began to dance.
It was a rather melancholy dance, but he turned and twisted, while Tony scolded and threatened in a low voice.
"Gee!" exclaimed Lance. "That's the monkey that put the 'tang' in 'tango' – eh, what?"
"Poor little thing!" said the Lockwood twins together.
"I don't believe he likes to do that," said Laura.
"He ought to be taken away from that man and sent to school," declared Chet, with gravity in his face but a twinkle in his eye.
"He'd do quite as well in his classes as some of you boys, I have no doubt," said Jess, quickly. "At least, Professor Dimp says you act like a lot of monkeys sometimes."
"Old Dimple is prejudiced," declared Lance. "He ought to see this monkey act. Phew! see him whirl. There! that's over. Now what next?"
CHAPTER IV
A SOLEMN MOMENT
The dance of the performing monkey had ceased and its owner changed the tune on the piano-organ again. He handed the monkey a little toy gun with one hand while he still turned the crank with the other. The monkey threw the gun down petulantly at first, but Tony threatened him and finally the animal held it when it was thrust into his hands.
"That monk certainly does understand Italian," admitted Lance. "I bet they are related."
"Lance is 'sore' on the Italian because he thinks Laura admires Tony," chuckled Chet.
"Be still!" commanded Laura. "You had better be nice to us girls or we won't keep the secret of how you boys took an involuntary bath to-day."
"'Nuff said," growled Chet. "I'm dumb."
The monkey was changing the gun from hand to shoulder, and holding it in different positions supposedly in imitation of a soldier's drill. But some of the audience laughed at its awkwardness.
"The Italian army must drill differently from ours," said Dora Lockwood.
"Did you ever see anything so funny?" laughed her twin.
Tony overheard them and his eyes flashed. He boxed the poor monkey on the side of the head, and it ran chattering to the end of its line.
"Aw, say!" exclaimed the good natured Lance. "Isn't that mean?"
"It's not a very smart monkey at that," said a man in the crowd.
"Hi!" exclaimed Tony, suddenly, "you think-a da monk can't do anything? He don't lik-a da silly treek – eh? Look now! I lock de door – so," and suiting his action to his words the Italian turned the big brass key in the lock of the booth door. He shook the door to show that it was fastened. Then he turned to the monkey again. "Bébé!" he commanded, harshly, pointing to the door, and rattled off some command in his own language which the audience did not understand. But the monkey seemed to understand it.
He looked at his master, ran to the end of his line, looked back at Tony, chattered, and then seized the big key. He turned it carefully, still looking over his shoulder at Tony, who appeared not to notice him, and ground the organ furiously.
The lock must have been well oiled, for the monkey turned the key very easily. Then he turned the knob of the door quite as carefully, all the time appearing to be afraid that he would be caught at it. For the first time the monkey actually betrayed some ability as an actor.
He pushed open the door, still keeping a sharp watch upon his master. Slowly he wedged his way into the booth. In a moment he had snatched something from the table inside and was back again upon the platform, with his mouth full, and munching rapidly, with his face hidden from his master.
The crowd laughed and applauded. Tony considered this a good time to take up the collection and he gave the monkey his cup. The little fellow made a polite bow to every person who dropped anything into the cup. At those who did not contribute Bébé chattered angrily.
"He's just as cunning as he can be," said Dorothy, as they turned away. "But I don't believe that man treats the monkey kindly."
"Here comes the boat!" exclaimed Chet. "We've got to leave you, girls. Don't get into any trouble, now, paddling home."
"Don't you fear for us," returned Dora, confidently.
"Let's race back to Centerport!" proposed Jess.
"No," said Laura, as the girls tripped down to the landing where they had left their canoes. "It is too far and Mrs. Case warns us not to over-exert, paddling."
"She's a fuss-budget," declared Jess, pouting.
"She's the best physical instructor in Centerport, and we're lucky to have her at Central High," said Dorothy, loyally.
"We're supposed to be in training for the boat races, too," said Dora.
The girls got aboard nicely and started across the lake. It was a calm day and there were scarcely any ripples; therefore there was little likelihood of the girls getting into any trouble. Half way across they saw a second motor-boat towing the burned Duchess toward the city. The fire was out, but the girls saw that poor Purt would have to spend some of his money in repairing the craft.
The four girls reached the school boathouse and had their canoes drawn out and put carefully away. Then they separated, for the Lockwood twins did not live on the same street as Laura and her chum.
The Lockwood cottage was set in a rather large plot of ground, which was mostly given up to Mr. Lockwood's nursery and hot-houses. The twins' father was wrapped up in his horticultural experiments, and as they had no mother the two girls were left much to their own devices. Mrs. Betsey Spink kept house for the Lockwoods, and had been the twins' nurse when they were little. She was a gentle, unassuming old lady, who "mothered" the girls as best she knew how, and