The Clockwork Twin (17 page)

“Yes, ma'am,” said the chauffeur.

The car nosed over the bridge and turned sharp right along the towpath. It went slowly, bumping over the uneven ground. In a few minutes the canal widened out on the other side in a little bay.

“That must be the place,” said Mrs. Church. “But there's nobody there now. Maybe we'd better get out and look around.”

They all piled out. Alice and Emma, hot and tired from the unaccustomed jouncing, waddled down into the water. They swam across and went ashore on the other side, and pretty soon came quacking back to say that they had found a path leading back into the woods. In the meantime Adoniram had seen a boat drawn up in the bushes. He and the chauffeur got it into the water, and they all went across.

It was agreed that Freddy, as an experienced detective, who might discover clues that the others would miss, should scout up the path alone. The others sat down in the grass to wait for him, talking in low voices.

“I hope he won't run away if he sees us and thinks we're looking for him,” said Adoniram. “He might, if he thinks we've come to take him back to the orphanage.”

“He won't if he sees me,” said Georgie. “But he may not want to go with you. He likes to live alone. You see, the people he's lived with have never been very nice.”

“I think that orphanage was nice,” said Freddy.

“Yes, but it wasn't on the water. Byram isn't happy unless there's a lake or a river to swim and fish in, and play around.”

“Maybe this boy isn't your Byram at all,” said Mrs. Church. “I don't want to be discouraging, but had you thought of that? All we've got for it, after all, is the say-so of a hawk.”

“Hawks have got pretty sharp eyes,” said Alice. “If he thought that boy looked like Adoniram, you may be pretty sure he does.”

“Somebody coming,” whispered the chauffeur.

There was a rustling of leaves and a faint leathery creaking, and a moment later a man on horseback appeared at the end of the path. He was a thin, dark man in ragged clothes, with gold earrings in his ears and a bright silk handkerchief around his neck. He stared at them a moment with sharp black eyes, then showed his white teeth in a smile and got down from his horse.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, bowing deeply. And as he bowed, the horse looked hard at Georgie and made a secret sign. It was a sign which every animal understands. It meant: “Don't talk. This man is not a friend to animals.”

“Good afternoon,” said Mrs. Church. “I hope we are not trespassing. Is this your land? We were just having a—a little picnic.”

“Yes, it is my land,” said the man. “As far as the eye can reach, and farther—it has always been mine, mine and my people's.”

“You mean you're an Indian?”

“No, my lady. I am Romany—what you call gypsy. But you are welcome.” He looked at Alice and Emma. “Ah,” he said. “Ducks.” And grinned at them. Alice and Emma did not like his grin: there were too many teeth in it.

Then he turned again to Mrs. Church. “But your picnic. I see nothing on the table—no bacon, no ham, no pork, no pickled pigs' feet. Where can it be?”

They all looked at one another. The remark could only mean that he had seen Freddy. But where was Freddy, then? Why hadn't he come back with him?

“We had finished,” said Mrs. Church. “We were resting. As a matter of fact,” she went on after a minute, “we are looking for a boy. A boy named Byram, who we understood was living in the neighborhood. Could you tell us where to find him?”

The man didn't answer. His quick eyes went from Mrs. Church to the chauffeur, to the big car across the canal, and back to Mrs. Church. “Those are very beautiful diamonds, my lady,” he said. “And the pearls—like little full moons. Is it not dangerous to wear such valuable jewels when traveling in such a wild country?”

“What has that got to do with the question I asked you?”

“Perhaps much,” said the man. “Perhaps much. But your question—yes. Come back with me to my camp, let me offer you my hospitality, and I will ask my people if they have seen such a boy as you describe.”

“I haven't described him yet,” Mrs. Church said. “But very well, I'll come.” And she got up.

“If I were you, ma'am—” began the chauffeur.

“You're not, Riley, thank goodness,” said Mrs. Church. “Come along.”

The gypsy went ahead, leading his horse. Adoniram carried the mice in his pocket. The two ducks brought up the rear, glancing nervously into the dark woods as they waddled along.

“I don't like this, sister,” said Emma. “I don't like it at all.”

“Nor do I,” said Alice. “But we can't desert Mrs. Church.”

Pretty soon the path opened out into a little clearing. Two wagons, like small houses set on wheels, and an old automobile with a trailer were drawn up on the far side. People were moving about, tending to the horses, cooking things over the fire in the middle of the clearing. They were dark, thin, quick-moving people, dressed in bright-colored clothes. Their queer, slanting black eyes seemed never to be looking at Adoniram, yet he knew that they didn't miss the slightest movement he made.

The gypsy led them past the fire to the other side of the clearing, and when he had spread blankets for them to sit on, he went about and talked to other members of his band in a low tone. A few bright-eyed children ran up to stare at the strangers, but an old woman drove them away. After a few minutes the gypsy came back.

“My people have not seen any boy,” he said. “But if you will tell me what he looks like, we will keep an eye out for him. I think there is a chance—a very good chance—that we might be able to find him for you. Only we would expect to be paid for our trouble. We are poor people. And you are rich, my lady. I suppose you would pay—well?” And his eyes went to the string of pearls.

“I would pay a reasonable amount for any information you gave me,” said Mrs. Church.

“A
reasonable
amount.” The gypsy's teeth flashed in a smile. “I wonder if we would agree on what is reasonable. Those pearls, perhaps, and perhaps that diamond brooch—”

“Don't be ridiculous,” said Mrs. Church sharply. “If you know where the boy is, say so, and I will pay you generously. But I certainly shall not give you my jewelry.”

The gypsy's eyes narrowed. “You are unwise, my lady.”

“Possibly,” said Mrs. Church, getting up. “But as you do not seem to know where the boy is, I see no reason for staying longer. Come along, Riley, Adoniram.”

But as they started to go, the gypsy made a gesture, and four other men slouched over from the wagons and barred their way. “This is a wild and dangerous country,” said the leader, “and travelers have sometimes been known to disappear and never be heard of again. For the sake of your own safety I could not permit you to go wandering about with only this man and a boy to guard you.”

“You mean that you intend to hold us here against our will?”

“Oh no, my lady. Only to guard you until it is safe for you to leave. Unless you wish to give your jewelry into my hands for safe keeping. Then it would be safe for you to go.”

The chauffeur balled his fists and stepped up to the gypsy, but Mrs. Church caught him by the arm. “No, no, Riley,” she said. “There are too many of them. Leave it to me.” She began pulling off rings and bracelets and undoing clasps and unpinning brooches. “Very well,” she said. “Turn the boy over to me and you shall have all these.”

“Oh, but you mustn't do that!” said Adoniram. He didn't know much about the value of diamonds and pearls, but he knew that they were worth a great deal of money. “This is just a hold-up.”

Mrs. Church smiled and shook her head at him, then she held out the double handful of glittering jewelry toward the gypsy. “Well, is it a deal?”

“Yes.” The gypsy nodded to one of the men, who started over toward the wagons. As they stood waiting, Adoniram felt a slight tug at his shoelace and looked down to see Eeny trying to attract his attention. He leaned down and picked up the mouse. “How'd you get down there?” he said.

Eeny ran up his arm, and perching on his shoulder close to his ear, whispered: “I sneaked away while you were sitting there and went over to talk to that horse. Listen. I found out something. They've got Freddy. They haven't decided whether to eat him or take him to town and sell him. They've got him shut up in that wagon—not the one that man's coming out of now—the one next to it. What'll we do?”

“Oh, look!” said Adoniram. Following the man, a boy came out of the wagon. He looked so much like Adoniram that, as Alice said, it made her a little dizzy for a minute. He came toward them slowly, rather unhappily. But then Georgie gave a sharp excited bark and ran forward and began jumping up and dancing about the boy, and all at once they were down in a heap on the grass, and the boy was hugging the dog and the dog's tail was going like the propeller of an aeroplane.

Adoniram went over to them. “How do you do?” he said, holding out his hand. “You're Byram, I guess.”

The boy got up, holding Georgie under one arm, and shook hands. “Yes, that's my name. What's yours? Have you come to take me back to the orphanage?”

“No. Georgie can tell you why we're here. My name is Adoniram. My last name is Bean now. And my middle initial is R.”

Byram looked at him sharply, but before he could say anything, Mrs. Church came up. “Come along, boys. We're going back now.”

The gypsies had gone back to their work, all but the leader, who was stuffing Mrs. Church's jewelry into his pockets and smiling and bowing. He seemed anxious to have them go now, and he did not follow them down the path.

As soon as they got back to the canal, Adoniram told them what Eeny had learned from the horse. “We can't leave Freddy behind,” he said. “And I think we ought somehow to get Mrs. Church's jewels back. Why, it was nothing but robbery!”

“Never mind the jewels,” said Mrs. Church. “But I certainly agree about Freddy. Why, I wouldn't have anything happen to him for worlds! He's the most entertaining person I have met since I left Paris. But have any of you anything to suggest?”

So Adoniram told them about the plan he had thought of. At first Mrs. Church said it was too dangerous, but she had to admit that she couldn't think of a better one, so it was agreed that they should try it.

The chauffeur rowed Mrs. Church and the mice and the ducks across to the car and returned with Uncle Ben's alarm clock. Then he and the two boys and Georgie started back down the path to the gypsy encampment. At the edge of the clearing they put a lot of extra firecrackers in the clock, set it to begin going off in five minutes, and hid it in some bushes. Then they went on.

The gypsies were all crowded around the fire, looking at the jewelry, but when the rescue party came into sight, the leader came toward them.

“Why do you come back here?” he said angrily. “You have got what you wanted. Why do you not go?”

“Well,” said the chauffeur, “you've played fair with us, so we thought we ought to warn you. There are a lot of state troopers out on the bank of the canal and I think they are coming after you.”

“Let them come,” said the gypsy. “We have nothing to hide.” But Adoniram noticed that the others all looked fearfully toward the end of the path.

“We heard them say they were going to clean you out for good this time,” said the chauffeur. “The captain said: ‘No quarter, boys, remember.' They've all got their pistols out.”

“I heard him say: ‘Begin shooting as soon as you catch sight of them,'” put in Adoniram.

“Bah,” said the gypsy. “You expect me to believe a story like that? Here you—Jeff, Adam—come back here.” For two of his band were already slinking off into the woods. “Come back, I say. There isn't any—”

Bang! Bang! The first two small firecrackers went off, and the gypsies scattered and dove for the bushes. All except the leader, who stood looking uncertainly after them.

Bang!
went a louder cracker, and Adoniram ducked. “Whee!” he said, “something went by my head.” And at that the leader turned and ran.

The rescuers ran, too, but they ran toward the wagon where Freddy was imprisoned. As they got to the door, they could hear the crash and tramping of the gypsies' flight dying away through the woods. Adoniram had out his scout knife; in five seconds they had burst in the door, cut the ropes that bound Freddy, and as the last fusillade of giant crackers went off, they raced down the path.

A few minutes later they had rowed across the canal, got into the car, and were heading for home.

“Well,” said Adoniram, “I'm glad it worked all right. But I think it's a shame about your jewelry, Mrs. Church. Can't we get the police to get it back for you?”

“Pooh,” said Mrs. Church, “I told you to forget the jewelry. I can get some more at the tencent store.”

“The ten-cent store!” exclaimed the boy.

“Of course. You didn't think those diamonds and pearls were real, did you? My goodness, no.” She laughed comfortably. “You're wondering why I wear them then, aren't you? Well, they don't cost anything, and if everybody thinks they're real, what's the difference? I like 'em because they're pretty. But if nobody but a jeweler can tell the difference between a diamond costing five cents and one costing a thousand dollars—well, why spend nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars and ninety-five cents extra? It doesn't look like sense to me.”