Billy Whiskers at the Circus by Frances Trego Montgomery - HTML preview

CHAPTER XII
 HOME AGAIN

BY this time it was about three o’clock in the morning. There were two good hours before daylight, and the time was improved by travelling as fast as possible. Billy and his party kept within the woods wherever possible, the monkeys, for the most part, staying in the trees, leaping from one to another, which is the way they get about in their native forests. They can travel much faster that way than on the ground. They all enjoyed the freedom they were experiencing for the first time in years very greatly, and were in the best of spirits.

The racket their chattering made was so loud that Billy had to caution them about it for fear they might attract attention, and this they did not want to do.

It was easy to imagine what was sure to happen if anyone discovered that there was a drove of monkeys loose in the woods. The whole community would be quickly aroused and a big hunt started. By all means discovery of this sort must be avoided.

As soon as signs of daylight began to appear in the east, Billy looked about for a good place to hide during the day where they would all be safe and could rest in peace and quiet until night came again when the journey could be resumed.

It so happened that they were at this time following the course of a little river which ran between steep banks of great rocks. Billy’s sharp eyes soon detected an opening between two of these large enough for him to go in, so in he went. To his surprise, this opening grew in size as he advanced until shortly he found himself in a dark cave as big as a large room. There couldn’t have been a better place for them to spend the day. A little brook ran through the cave so that the supply of good water was abundant.

It was plain to be seen from the bones scattered about that sometime this cave had been the home of wild animals, probably wolves or bears, but there were no signs of recent occupation, so Billy was not disturbed by any fears.

Going out, he hastily summoned the monkeys and told them of his fortunate discovery of a good hiding-place and bade them to lose no time in getting out of sight as it would soon be broad daylight. This they did in a hurry, Colonel Mandrill leading the way.

You might suppose that by this time they must have all been very hungry and so they would but that on their way during the night, they had passed through many fields where there was plenty of corn and pumpkins, through orchards where the boughs of the trees were bending beneath their weight of beautiful, ripe apples, through cabbage patches and fields of turnips. All the time they had helped themselves to everything they wanted.

If they were not hungry, they were certainly tired. The excitement of the railroad wreck and the unusual exertions of a two hours’ tramp were enough to bring weariness to even the youngest and friskiest of the monkeys. Soon it was quiet in the cave except for the snoring of Colonel Mandrill who never could sleep quietly.

Evening had come before even Billy Whiskers, who had the responsibility of the expedition on his hands, roused from his deep, refreshing slumbers. He supposed from the silence all about him that all the others were still sleeping. As it was dark in the cave he could not tell whether it was day or night, so he thought he would slip out and take a look around when he could decide whether or not it was safe to start out. With this wise plan in mind, he made his noiseless way very nearly to the entrance of the cave, when—for the last time in this story—the long arm of Colonel Mandrill darted forth and nabbed him hard and fast.

“No you don’t, Billy Whiskers, for I have caught you again! It’s my belief that you have planned to sneak off and leave us here by ourselves. If I really thought so, I’d fix you here and now so you could never play us such a trick again. What have you got to say for yourself?”

“It’s no such thing,” answered Billy, mad through and through at this unjust suspicion, but scared at the same time. “I was just going out for a minute to see what time it is. This cave is so dark that I can’t tell anything about it. If you don’t believe me, you can come too.”

“I will,” grimly answered old Blue Nose.

Outside they found that the sun was already down and that it was fast growing dark.

Billy Whiskers and Colonel Mandrill agreed that it would be safe to start as soon as the other monkeys were awake and ready.

“I think,” said Billy, “that this little river here is the Tuscarawas. If so, I know my way and we shall have no difficulty in finding Cloverleaf Farm. By travelling fast, if we are not stopped or hindered, we should be there by three or four o’clock in the morning.”

With that encouraging prospect before them, they started in good spirits. In a surprisingly short time it seemed, Billy Whiskers began to look about for familiar landmarks.

In the distance to the left, he discovered a group of buildings which he made out to be The Corners where he had first learned about the Circus and seen the billboards. A little later he saw and recognized the big chestnut tree where Mr. Coon lived.

“We’ll make for that,” thought Billy. “If the old marauder is out and comes home to find a lot of monkeys perched in his tree he’ll think he is having the worst nightmare that ever horrified a healthy coon. How I shall laugh at the sight of him!”

TOM AND HARRY INVITED THEM TO THE HOUSE.

Billy didn’t dream of the tragedy he was about to witness.

Soon they had come to the big chestnut tree, and the monkeys, without being told, quickly climbed into its lofty branches, waiting for Billy to decide on the next move.

While he was considering how he could best put in his unexpected appearance at Cloverleaf Farm, he thought he saw two figures of what seemed to be small boys hiding behind a clump of blackberry bushes not very far away. They came shortly after he arrived and evidently did not see either him or the monkeys.

He was right, for Tom and Harry Treat had come out with their guns to try and get a shot at Mr. Coon, who of late, it seems, had been very bold and had acquired the very bad habit of robbing the hen roost at Cloverleaf. Only the night before he had imprudently selected for his midnight supper the finest young white Leghorn rooster on the place. This was the more provoking because the boys had expected to enter this same rooster at the county fair to be held the next week. The Coon had now gone too far in his depredations and it was decided to put an end to him at whatever cost of time and trouble. This explains why they were watching with their guns at this time of night the old chestnut tree, for it was well known to be the Coon’s house.

Presently a scratching inside the trunk of the tree might have been heard and very soon the head of the ill-fated Coon appeared at the door of his house. He crawled lazily out on the great limb near at hand and was about to scratch himself, as was his wont, when he espied one of the monkeys. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, so he winked hard and looked again. Instead of one, he now saw a whole group of his archenemies here and there and everywhere, all silently watching him, Colonel Mandrill the nearest to him of all. With that he closed both eyes and toppled off the big limb to the ground. Just then two shots rang out on the still air, and at the same time both Tom and Harry rushed forward to make sure that the Coon did not even yet get away. He was dead. There could be no doubt of that, but no mark of a bullet was found upon him. At the unexpected sight of the monkeys, his old and most-dreaded enemies, he had perished of heart failure.

While the boys were wondering how it was that the Coon had died while the bullets from neither of their guns had touched him to their increased amazement and utter astonishment, Billy Whiskers appeared before them, coming from the other side of the great chestnut trunk.

On the part of each there was every indication of joy at the unexpected reunion.

In the meantime the monkeys had climbed down from their lofty perches and, according to their custom, silently formed a circle about their leader and his friends. When the boys saw them they thought that wonders would never cease.

It would be too much to say that they were not a little frightened at first, but as soon as they saw that Billy Whiskers took it as a matter of course and recognized who the monkeys were, they invited them all to come with Billy to the house, assuring them of a cordial welcome.

On the way, Colonel Mandrill told Billy that the wicked Coon had doubtless died of heart disease brought on by the sight of him and his family, and explained that this same Coon had travelled with their Circus three summers before, that he had been placed in their cage and that they had no end of fun with him.

“Of course,” went on the Colonel, “the more he hated our teasing and the crosser he grew, the better we enjoyed the sport.”

Finally, it appeared, “old ring tail,” as the monkeys called the Coon, had made his escape just in time to save himself from nervous prostration. They had never expected to see him again.

By the time this story was finished, they had reached the barnyard. It was then between five and six o’clock of the beautiful October morning. The animals were just beginning to move about. Billy Whiskers was so excited that he could hardly contain himself. The first of his old friends he encountered was old Bob, the big Newfoundland dog. Their happy greeting was most enthusiastic. Like wildfire the news spread that Billy Whiskers had come home, and all his friends rushed to welcome him. They were all present, including Mr. and Mrs. Treat and little Dick.

What rejoicings there were! Even the monkeys were treated well on his account, though it must be confessed that it was with difficulty that aversion and suspicion of them were concealed.

Mr. Treat said that they would soon learn all about it. In this he was right for the city paper brought in by the rural delivery man that day gave a full account of the wrecked railroad train and told how, in the hubbub, the famous Billy Whiskers and his trained monkeys had escaped. In another place there was a big announcement offering a reward of twenty-five hundred dollars for the safe capture of the runaways.

Mr. Treat, without telling any of the family, at once drove to the nearest telegraph office and wired the manager that the lost animals were all safe at Cloverleaf Farm.

The following morning the Circusman with Mike and Jim appeared on the scene.

It was soon arranged that Billy’s engagement was considered closed. Owing to the lateness of the season and the serious wreck, the show would at once go into winter quarters. The only difficulty was to induce the monkeys to go, leaving Billy behind. It was finally decided to build on the big lumber wagon a strong removable cage. When finished, Billy, to whom the scheme had been explained, jumped in at once and the monkeys followed. At the other end of the cage two of the bars had been fixed so that one of them could be dropped down and the other raised up thus making a hole big enough for Billy to get through.

When all the monkeys were in, Mike and Jim made the opening for Billy and out he popped before the rest knew what was up. They then made an awful outcry and tore around like all possessed, but it did no good.

Billy got out of sight and sound as soon as he could, for though he did not love the monkeys and they were more mad than sad at parting with him, still, on the whole, they had had good times together and been a great help to each other.

“I feel about parting with the monkeys a good deal as I do about old Mr. Coon. Though I know he richly deserved his fate, it makes me blue to think about it. It was a disgrace to be an acquaintance of his, but I can’t help admitting that he was often entertaining company. It’s the same way with the monkeys.”

With the reward money received for the return of the monkeys to their owners, Mr. Treat bought one of the automobiles that were then just beginning to be introduced for use in the country. This pleased the boys greatly. Beside that he put a thousand dollars away to be used for Tom, Dick, and Harry’s education when they were older.

And so, for the present, we will leave Billy Whiskers at home again, more admired and famous than ever before, enjoying as he had never done in the old days the peace and plenty of Cloverleaf Farm, surrounded by a host of good friends and many interests.

THE END.