CHAPTER V. – A LEAP OF GREAT PERIL
Leo fully understood his great peril.
The entire canvas above him was in flames, and in a very short while the ropes which supported the bar upon which he had been performing would be burned through.
And then? Leo hardly dared to think of the consequences. The sawdust ring below seemed a terrible distance away.
A leap to it would mean broken limbs, perhaps death.
A panic arose among the audience.
“He can’t escape!”
“He must fall or jump!”
A rope and a net were sent for, but long before they arrived Leo had made a move to save himself.
The smoke rolled around him a second time.
It was fearfully thick, and made him close his mouth and eyes for fear of being either blinded or suffocated.
As the smoke swept back in another direction there was a snap above.
One of the ropes which held the bar had parted!
The end of the bar hung down, and below it the end of the burned rope.
As quick as a flash Leo slid down to the very end of the rope.
Thus suspended he began to swing himself back and forth.
Soon he gave an extra swing, just as the smoke again came down.
Like a curving ball he passed through the cloud, past the centerpole, and on to the rings, on the other side of the tent.
He caught hold of one of the rings and hung fast.
Then after a pause in which to catch his breath he let himself down to the ground.
A deafening cheer arose.
Leo had actually saved himself from death, for as he touched the sawdust the heavy ash bar high above fell with a crash, just missing those who came on with the net.
“He’s safe!”
The ushers and others now ran around asking the vast audience to leave the tent as quietly as possible.
But every one was afraid of the falling of the huge centerpole, and all made a great rush for the openings.
In this stampede many women and children were knocked down, and it was a wonder that some of them were not killed.
The fire brigade of the circus went to work as speedily as possible. The nearest hydrant of water was some distance away, but soon a hose was attached and a stream poured on the burning canvas.
In less than half an hour the excitement was over. Without delay the canvasmen went to work to repair the damage done.
A good many people grumbled at not having seen a full performance. To these were given tickets of admission to the evening performance.
With the others from the ring, Leo hurried to the dressing tent. It was not long before he was joined by Barton Reeve.
“A great leap, my boy,” said the manager of the menagerie. “I never saw anything so neat.”
“It was a big undertaking,” smiled Leo. “I don’t think I would care to try it at every performance – at least not yet.”
“It would be the hit of your life to have that on the bills,” put in Natalie Sparks.
“Oh, that wasn’t so very wonderful,” remarked Jack Snipper, the brother clown and gymnast.
“It wasn’t, eh?” cried Reeve. He could easily see how jealous Snipper was of the attention bestowed upon Leo. “I’ll wager you a round hundred dollars you can’t make the leap with the rings ten feet closer.”
“Stuff and nonsense!” cried Snipper; but all noticed that he did not take up the offer and moved away a second later.
“You want to keep one eye on Snipper,” was Natalie’s caution to Leo.
“Why?”
“Can’t you see he doesn’t fancy the attention you are getting?”
“Oh, I’m sure I don’t want to cut short his popularity,” exclaimed the boy gymnast quickly.
“Popularity!” The Fire Queen burst into a laugh. “You can’t, Leo.”
“Why?”
“Because he never was popular. Why, they used to call him Sour Snipper.”
It was now announced that the afternoon performance would not go on, and the different people separated to take off their ring dresses and put on their everyday clothes.
Leo was rather slow to make the change. He began to practice around the tent on several turns which as yet were difficult for him to do gracefully.
“You must love to work,” growled Snipper on seeing him.
“I love the exercise,” returned Leo shortly.
“You won’t catch me doing any more of that than I have to.”
“I want to become perfect.”
“Do you mean to say by that that I am not perfect?” growled Snipper.
“We never get really perfect, Snipper.”
“Oh, pshaw! Don’t preach to me. Do you know what I think you are?”
“I do not.”
“A country greeny with a swelled head.”
Leo’s face flushed at this. A laugh came from behind the canvas, where other performers were undressing.
“Thanks for the compliment, Snipper. I may be a little green, but at the same time I’ll tell you what you can’t do.”
“What?”
“You can’t stunt me. I’ll do everything you do, and go you one better.”
“Oh, you’re talking through your hat,” growled Snipper.
“Am I? Take me up and see.”
“I won’t bother with you, you greenhorn.”
“Because you are a braggart and nothing else,” retorted Leo, stung by the insolent acrobat’s manner.
With a cry of rage, Jack Snipper leaped toward the boy, picking up a heavy Indian club as he did so.
CHAPTER VI. – LEO ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS
At once a crowd of performers surrounded the pair. Very few of them liked Jack Snipper, and they wondered what Leo would do should the gymnast attack the boy.
“Call me a braggart, will you!” roared Snipper.
“Don’t you dare to touch me with that club!” replied Leo calmly.
“I’ll teach you a lesson!”
And, swinging the Indian club over his head, Jack Snipper made a savage blow at the young gymnast.
Had the stick struck Leo the boy’s head would have sustained a severe injury.
But as quick as a flash Leo dodged, and the Indian club merely circled through the empty air.
“For shame, Snipper!”
“Do you want to kill the boy?”
“What harm has he done?”
And so the cries ran on.
“Mind your own affairs!” shouted the maddened gymnast. “I’m going to teach the boy a lesson!”
Again he sprang at Leo.
But now suddenly the Indian club was caught. A dexterous twist, and it went flying out of reach across the dressing tent.
Then, before Snipper could recover, he received a stinging slap full in the face that sent him staggering backward on the grass.
A shout of approval went up.
“Good for Leo!”
“That’s right, boy, stand up for your rights!”
The shout brought Adam Lambert, the general manager, to the scene.
No sooner had he appeared than all the performers walked away. It was against the rules to fight, and every one present was liable to a heavy fine.
With the crowd went Snipper, who rolled over and over until a neighboring canvas-wall hid him from view.
“Who is fighting here?” demanded Lambert severely.
“Jack Snipper attacked me with an Indian club and I knocked him down,” replied Leo.
“Why did he attack you?”
“Snipper’s jealous of the lad,” came from behind a side canvas.
“Yes, the boy only stood up for his rights,” said another voice.
“We want no fighting here, Leo Dunbar,” said Lambert. “Another such scene and you may be discharged.”
And off went the general manager to inspect the mending of the tent.
He might have spoken even more severely, but he had seen Leo’s wonderful leap and realized what fine mettle there was in the lad.
Snipper remained out of sight, nor did he appear again until the evening performance.
Having finished changing his clothing, Leo walked outside and mingled with the crowd of town people.
He 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 an idea struck him.
He was approaching the inclosed grounds of the County Agricultural Society.
The county fair was in progress and thousands of people were in and about the inclosure.
Could he not lose himself in the crowd?
He resolved to make the attempt.
But he had not the price of admission, even though it was but twenty-five cents.
Yet this did not stop the youth.
“Necessity knows no law,” and just as Daniel Hawkins drove up within a hundred feet of him he ran in among the carriages at the gateway and entered the grounds before the gatekeeper could stop him.
“Hi, boy, stop! Where is your ticket?”
The policeman near the gatekeeper made a dash after Leo.
But the boy was not to be collared.
He sprang into the midst of a crowd, and that ended the chase so far as the guardian of the law went.
Leo did not remain near the gates, but following the crowd, he walked to one of the main buildings and then to the large field beyond.
Here was a small racecourse, and local horsemen were running races for small purses and side bets.
At once something in the center of the racetrack attracted Leo’s attention.
It was a very large balloon, swaying gracefully to and fro in the light breeze that was blowing.
The boy was interested on the instant, as he had not seen a balloon since he was a small boy.
“Father once went up in one of those things,” he mused, as he moved forward. “I would like to try it once myself.”
Around the balloon were half a dozen men, preparing for the ascension, to take place half an hour later.
Professor Williams, the aeronaut, had not yet put in appearance.
The balloon was about filled with hot air and the men were merely keeping the air warm until the professor should arrive.
As Leo stood by watching the arrangements an outsider came up.
“Too bad!” he said.
“What’s too bad?”
“The professor can’t get here to-day.”
“Why not?”
“He has been taken sick and is at the hotel in New Haven.”
“That will be a big disappointment to this crowd.”
“I admit it, but it can’t be helped.”
The boy listened to the conversation with interest.
He pushed his way to where the man in charge of the balloon stood.
“I’ll go up in the balloon for you, if you’ll pay me,” he said.
“You!” the man looked at him in astonishment.
“Yes.”
“It won’t do, my lad. The crowd want somebody who will make a parachute jump, and all that.”
“I’ll make the parachute jump if you’ll give me a few instructions.”
The man laughed.
“You’re a daring youngster, to say the least,” he remarked. “Why, you might break your neck.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” returned Leo confidently.
“Well, I’m much obliged, but I can’t use your services.”
“Let me get in the basket and see how it feels, will you?” asked the boy, after a pause.
“Well, seeing as you are so anxious, I’ll oblige you,” laughed the man.
The basket rested on the ground, directly to one side of the fire, with which the air in the swaying monster was kept hot.
Hardly had the man given permission than Leo entered the wicker inclosure.
It was about six feet in diameter and filled with bags of sand for ballast.
To one side of the basket was attached a parachute. This the balloonist used in making his daring jumps from the clouds.
As Leo sat in the basket the crowd gathered around him.
“Hullo, Leo Dunbar! what are you doing in that basket?” asked Ben Barkley, one of the rich boys of Hopsville.
“Going to make an ascension,” returned Leo jokingly.
“Bet you ten dollars you are not,” laughed Ben.
“All right; I’ll take you up. But you must loan me the money, Ben.”
“How is it old Hawkins gave you a day off?” went on Ben. “Thought he was too mean to give anybody a holiday.”
“So he is, Ben. I took a day off and I’m going to take more.”
“Phew! What do you mean? Have you and the old man parted company?”
“We have.”
“It is a wonder he would let you go – he got so much work out of you.”
“He didn’t let me go. I ran away.”
Ben Barkley’s eyes opened widely.
“You don’t mean it!”
“I do! I’m tired of being his slave.”
“I don’t blame you a bit for leaving,” was Ben’s decided reply. “I know what a hard-hearted man he is.”
“I’m going to carve my own way to fortune.”
“What are you going to do?”
Leo was about to answer when Ben was pushed to one side and the portly form of Daniel Hawkins appeared.
“Ha! ha! So I have found you at last, you scamp!” he cried in a rage. “A pretty run you have given me! And made me pay out twenty-five cents, too, to come in the fair after you!”
Leo was taken completely aback. He had not dreamed that the farmer would follow him into the grounds.
“I’ll skin you!” stormed the man, seeing the boy did not immediately answer him.
“Not much you won’t,” put in Ben Barkley.
“What have you to do with this?” howled Daniel, turning to the rich boy.
“You have no right to abuse Leo,” responded Ben.
“This is none of your business!”
“Hold him a minute, Ben!” suddenly shouted Leo. “Hold him!”
As the boy spoke he drew from his pocket a clasp-knife.
Quickly he opened the largest blade.
Slash! slash! slash!
He was cutting the ropes which held the balloon.
“Here! What are you doing!” screamed the man in charge.
“I’m going to escape a tyrant!” responded Leo, as he cut the last rope.
For an instant the balloon continued to sway from side to side.
Daniel Hawkins fought off Ben Barkley and leaped forward.
Too late!
Up shot the balloon, dragging the basket after it.
In less time than it takes to tell it, Leo Dunbar was five hundred feet up in the air!
CHAPTER VIII. – AMONG THE CLOUDS IN A THUNDERSTORM
A cry arose.
“The balloon has gone up!”
“Why, the balloonist is nothing but a boy!”
“My! but ain’t it going up fast!”
Daniel Hawkins could do nothing but stare after the balloon.
“Foolish boy, he will be killed!” he gasped.
Ben Barkley was also amazed.
“He said he would go up,” he murmured, “but I never supposed that he meant it.”
The crowd continued to shout. They wondered what it all meant, and some asked the men who had had the balloon in charge, but those individuals had no time to explain.
They sprang into a wagon and prepared to follow the direction of the balloon, supposing it would come down as soon as the hot air began to cool off.
Meanwhile, what of Leo?
So sudden was the upward rush of the balloon that the boy was thrown to the bottom of the basket ere he was aware.
He clutched the sides and then ventured to look down. The earth seemed to be fading away beneath him.
For a few minutes he was deadly sick at the stomach and there was a strange ringing in his ears.
The balloon was moving in the direction of Hopsville. Soon it passed over the town.
Leo could see the few streets and the brook laid out like a map beneath him.
He was growing accustomed to his novel situation.
On and on went the balloon.
The wind appeared to blow stronger the higher he went.
Then he looked ahead and saw he was rushing rapidly toward a dense mass of clouds to the southeast.
The boy had noticed the clouds while running toward Lendham.
They betokened a thunderstorm, and already the mutterings of thunder came to his ears.
“A storm would be more than I bargained for,” he thought. “I wonder if I can’t get away from it?”
Leo had heard tell of going up above a storm when the latter hung low.
He did not know if he could make a hot-air balloon go up, but he resolved to try.
With great rapidity he threw out one sandbag after another.
Lightened of a great part of its load, the balloon shot up a hundred feet or more.
Then the boy noticed a large sponge tied to the side of the basket and beside a can labeled alcohol.
At once he saturated the sponge and placed it on the stick for that purpose.
When the sponge was lit he held it up to the mouth of the balloon.
The cooling air began to grow hot again, and once more the balloon went up slowly, but steadily.
But now the wind made the basket rock violently from side to side.
Soon Leo had to extinguish the sponge and put it away.
A gust sent the basket almost over to one side, and he had to let everything go in order to cling fast.
Sizz! A jagged streak of lightning crossed directly in front of the balloon!
He was now in the very midst of the storm and all grew black around him.
The change from the bright sunshine was terrible to the boy and he almost gave himself up for lost.
Back and forth rocked the balloon and the basket, and many were the times that he was in danger of being hurled to death.
Then the balloon began to descend.
The clouds were left behind, and there followed a deluge of rain which drenched Leo to the skin.
He fell so rapidly that a new danger presented itself.
Where or how would he land?
Would he break his neck or a limb?
Down, down he went! There were trees or bushes under him, he could not tell which.
Crash! The basket settled in the top of a tree.
Down came the folds of the balloon on top of it, and the boy was nearly smothered.
Yet he was exceedingly thankful that his life had been spared.
He crawled from the basket and carefully made his way down the tree to the ground.
The storm still raged, but gradually it moved onward, and the sun broke from beneath the scattering clouds.
Leo had traveled at least eight or ten miles, and he wondered what he should do next.
He had half a mind to run off and leave the balloon men to find their property as best they might.
But he soon changed his mind on that point.
“I’ll aid them all I can,” he said to himself.
The boy knew there was a road through the woods which ran almost directly to the fair grounds.
He made his way to this and walked on through the mud and wet.
It was not long before he came up to the men in the wagon.
At first they were inclined to be abusive, and they thought to have the boy locked up.
But Leo soon changed all this.
“Your balloon is all right,” he said. “And by going up I reckon I saved you the amount you were to get from the fair people. You wouldn’t get a cent if somebody hadn’t gone up.”
This was a new way of looking at it.
“Well, we won’t get paid for a parachute jump,” said the balloon manager. “But we can claim half money, true enough.”
The boy showed the men where the balloon was, and helped them load it on their wagon.
The men took to Leo, and as he helped them at the hardest work, they readily answered his questions about the circus and gave him full directions by which he could take a short cut to the grounds.
“That was a narrow escape,” murmured Leo to himself as he made his way back to the “Greatest Show on Earth.”
Arriving there, he had another long talk with Barton Reeve, who, as before stated, had taken a sudden and strong fancy to the brave lad.
The upshot of the matter was that Reeve bought Leo a trunk and advanced him money for several changes of clothing.
The next day, at Lendham, the circus tents were jammed with people.
Everything was again in order, and all the acts went off with a dash that drew round after round of applause.
Snipper was as sour as ever, but he took good care not to interfere with Leo.
As for the boy, he appeared perfectly at home; so much so that many said he was a born circus performer.
As a clown he caused the people to laugh heartily, and when he threw off his trunks and performed on the bars and rings he got more than a share of the applause.
As soon as the performance was over the circus packed up, and at half-past eleven began to move from Lendham to Middletown, seven miles distant.
Leo spent the night at the Middletown Hotel with Barton Reeve. The boy was now a protégéof the menagerie manager.
Before going to bed, Leo told Reeve much about his former life, and showed the manager the pictures of his folks.
Reeve became interested.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Leo,” he said. “I’ll go to this Squire Dobb and get him to release you in a lawful way. Then you will have nothing to fear from Daniel Hawkins.”
“But supposing Hawkins won’t let the squire release me?”
“I don’t believe he has any claim on you that would hold good in a court of law. I’ll make the squire show his authority over you first.”
“I wish you could get Squire Dobb to make a settlement of my parents’ estate,” went on Leo earnestly.
“You think he is holding money from you?”
“I know he is.”
“Well, I’ll investigate.”
Bright and early the next day the young lad and Barton Reeve drove over to the home of Nathan Dobb.
They found the squire busy in his office, looking over some legal papers.
Without preliminaries Barton Reeve introduced himself. The squire listened in silence, at the same time scowling at Leo.
“Want to quit the farm and become a circus performer, eh?” said Dobb at last. “Can’t let you do it. You’ll have to go back to Daniel Hawkins’ farm.”
“I never will!” returned Leo warmly. “I’ll run away entirely first.”
“We’ll see,” sniffed Squire Dobb.
Barton Reeve had sized up the lawyer at a glance. He saw that the man was a crafty villain, not to be trusted.
“Squire, would you mind showing me your authority over this boy?” he remarked firmly.
“Wh-what?” was the surprised exclamation.
“I would like to learn your legal authority over Leo.”
“It’s none of your business!”
“I shall make it my business.”
“Going to pry into matters, eh?”
“Yes, unless you consent to release Leo. He has been misused on the Hawkins’ place.”
The face of Nathan Dobb was a study. If there was one thing he feared it was the exposure of the past. Why he feared this will be explained later.
“I’ll have to see Hawkins first,” he said at last.
“When will you see him?”
“To-day. But what is Leo to do?”
“He is going to travel with me and perform in the circus.”
“He can’t do anything.”
“Never mind. I’ll teach him a thing or two,” replied Barton Reeve.
He was afraid if he told Squire Dobb what Leo could really do that the miserly lawyer would want money for the release.
After a little more talk Leo and Reeve left the squire’s house.
On the next day Reeve got a short note from Dobb. It read:
“I have given up all claim to Leo Dunbar, and so has Daniel Hawkins.”
Leo was much pleased. Barton Reeve smiled to himself.
“There is something in all this, Leo,” he said. “Next week, when I get time, I’ll look into your past and Squire Dobb’s doings.”