Leo the Circus Boy: or, Life under the great white canvas. Stratemeyer Edward
knew but few of them, as since he had worked on Daniel Hawkins’ farm he had been to Hopsville but seldom.
He wandered around to the museum, or side show, and while looking at the gigantic pictures displayed, was rather taken aback to see Daniel Hawkins and his wife standing not two yards away.
“My gracious!” murmured Leo to himself, and he lost no time in moving back.
As will be remembered, Daniel Hawkins had received two tickets for the show from the men who had come after the escaped lion.
Under pretense of looking for Leo, the old couple, who generally spoke of all shows as works of the evil one, attended the afternoon performance.
They saw the young gymnast, but the paint on his face as a clown so disguised him that neither recognized their bound boy.
They were much disappointed to have the fire cut short what proved to be so entertaining to them, but the extra tickets for the evening performance soothed their feelings greatly.
“We’ll take in this ’ere side show and then git a bite an’ wait fer the next openin’,” said Daniel. “It’s better’n goin’ over to the county fair.”
And Mrs. Hawkins agreed with him.
As soon as Leo saw the old couple an idea entered his head.
At the Hawkins’ farmhouse he had several things which he wished to get. Not clothing – he was too poor to own more than what was on his back – but mementos of former days, when he had had as nice a home as any lad in the Hopsville district.
These mementos were secreted in the garret of the old farmhouse, in a corner behind the wide chimney, where Daniel Hawkins had never looked for them.
“I’ll visit the house while they are here and get those things,” Leo said to himself, and off he started.
As we know, it was quite a distance. Leo looked around for some sort of a vehicle which might give him a “lift,” but unfortunately none appeared in sight.
At last he reached the place, to find it tightly locked up below.
In a twinkle Leo was up on the kitchen shed. From there he clambered along the gutter of the addition until he reached the window of a middle room.
As he had surmised this window was unlocked, and he crawled inside, although not without difficulty and danger of breaking his neck by a fall.
No sooner had he entered than a most appetizing smell greeted his nose.
“Huckleberry pie!” he cried. “By criminy! but I must have a piece!”
Down the stairs went Leo. The pies set on the kitchen table, two in number. A third, partly gone, rested close at hand.
At first Leo thought, just out of mischief, to cut a fresh pie. But then he reflected that this might cause suspicion and trouble, and he let the whole pies alone and satisfied himself on a juicy portion of that which was cut.
A glass of milk washed down the pie, and then, feeling much refreshed, the boy hurried upstairs to the garret.
The mementos were done up in a flat pasteboard box. There were pictures of his mother and father and other relatives, and half a dozen letters and other things, including a silver watch.
Daniel Hawkins had always wanted the watch but Leo had never let on that he possessed it.
With the articles in his pockets Leo started downstairs once more.
He had just reached the second story and was on the point of descending the lower flight of stairs, when an unexpected sound greeted his ears.
Daniel and Martha Hawkins had returned.
“So much cheaper ter git supper ter hum,” he heard Mrs. Hawkins say, speaking from the kitchen.
“It’s a pity, though, yer Aunt Mariah wasn’t hum,” returned Daniel Hawkins.
Leo was startled.
“Caught!” he muttered to himself, and then added: “Not much!”
With great caution he left the hallway and entered the side bedroom.
As noiselessly as possible he opened the window again.
The distance to the ground was at least twelve feet, but there was heavy grass below, and Leo did not mind such a drop.
“It’s nothing to that leap I had to take in the circus,” he said to himself, and crawled out on the window-sill.
“Hi! hi! You young rascal! What are you doing up there?”
Leo looked down. Beneath the window stood old Daniel Hawkins.
CHAPTER VII. – LEO GAINS HIS LIBERTY
Daniel Hawkins had just come out to care for his horse. By sheer accident he had glanced up at the window and beheld Leo in the act of dropping out.
The young gymnast was as much surprised as was his tormentor. But he knew enough to cling fast to the sill, and not to drop into Daniel Hawkins’ clutches.
“Goin’ ter drop out, eh?” went on the old farmer.
“I rather think not,” replied Leo, and popped into the room again.
At once Daniel Hawkins called his wife.
“Marthy! Marthy!”
“Wot, Daniel?”
“Leo’s up in the house a-tryin’ ter climb out o’ the winder!”
“You don’t say!”
“Run up an’ catch him!”
“Why don’t you go?”
“I want ter watch out here fer him! If I go up he’ll drop anyway.”
“Drat the boy!” muttered Mrs. Hawkins, and she went for her old-time weapon, the broom.
Armed with this, she ascended the stairs. She entered the side bedroom, to which her husband had pointed, only to find it empty.
“He ain’t here!” she cried from the window.
“He’s somewhere? Root him out!” shouted Daniel Hawkins.
So Mrs. Hawkins ran around from room to room.
But she did not find Leo, for the simple reason that the young gymnast had, by running through two rooms, reached the stairs and gone down to the front door.
He opened this and ran outside just as Daniel Hawkins appeared around the corner of the porch, whip in hand.
“Stop, Leo!”
“Not to-day!” retorted the boy.
And away he went, Daniel Hawkins lumbering after him.
The farmer was no match for the young gymnast. Soon Leo was out of his sight, and he returned to the farmhouse to talk the matter over with his spouse.
“I’ll fix him yet, see ef I don’t!” he said to Martha.
Soon his bony nag was hitched up to a buckboard, and away went the farmer in pursuit of the lad, who was doing his best to get away.
“I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry when I collar him,” thought the miserly man savagely.
On went the boy until nearly half the distance to Lendham, the next town, was covered. Wishing to throw the farmer off the scent, Leo did not head for the circus grounds.
As it was a hot day he was soon pretty well winded and he dropped into a walk.
On looking back he was chagrined to see the buckboard approaching.
“He means to catch me, after all!” he thought.
The young gymnast hardly knew what to do.
It was useless to think of going on, for his pursuer would sooner or later overtake him.
On both sides of the road were open fields, offering no place where he might conceal himself.
Suddenly