Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “You see, we’re going to have a rare lark this afternoon,” continued Stubby, confidentially. “Usually it’s pretty dull here, and all we can do is ride and hunt — play cards and quarrel. But your coming has created no end of excitement and this dance will be our red-letter day for a long time to come. The deuce of if is, however, that there are only two girls to dance with thirteen men. We limit our community to fifteen, you know; but little Ford and old Rutledge have backed down and won’t have anything to do with this enterprise. I don’t know why,” he continued, thoughtfully.

  “Perhaps they still have some gentlemanly instincts,” suggested Patsy.

  “That must be it,” he replied in a relieved tone. “Well, anyhow, to avoid quarrels and bloodshed we’ve agreed to throw dice for the dances. Every one is to have an equal chance, you see, and when you young ladies open the dance the entire programme will be arranged for you.”

  “Are we to have no choice in the matter of partners?” inquired Beth curiously.

  “None whatever. There would surely be a row, in that case, and we intend to have everything; pass off pleasantly if we have to kill a few to keep the peace.”

  With this Stubby bowed low and retreated toward the door, which suddenly opened to admit old Dan’l the fiddler, who was thrust in so violently that his body collided with that of Stubby and nearly knocked him over.

  “That’s all right,” laughed the remittance man, recovering from the shock. “You mustn’t escape, you know, Dan’l, for we depend on you for the music.”

  He closed the door as he went out and they all heard a bolt shoot into place. Yet the broad window, scarcely six feet from the ground, stood wide open to admit the air.

  Dan’l stood in the middle of the room, motionless for a moment. Then he raised his wrinkled face and clinched his fists, shaking them in the direction of the living-room.

  “Me!” he muttered; “me play for dese monkeys to dance — me! a maestro — a composer — a artiste! No; I vill nod! I vill die before I condescention to such badness, such mockery!”

  They were the first words he had spoken since his arrival, and they seemed to hold all his pentup indignation. The girls pitied the old man and, recognizing in him a fellow prisoner, sought to comfort him.

  “If the dance depends upon us, there will be no dance,” said Patsy, firmly.

  “I thought you advised submitting to the whim of these ruffians,” said

  Uncle John in surprise.

  “Only to gain time, Uncle. And the scheme has succeeded. Now is our time to plot and plan how to outwit our enemies.”

  “Goot!” cried Dan’l approvingly. “I help you. Dey are vermin — pah! I vould kill dem all mitout mercifulness, unt be glad!”

  “It won’t be necessary to kill them, I hope,” said Beth, smiling. “All we wish is to secure our escape.”

  “Vot a time dey make me!” said Dan’l, more calmly. “You see, I am living peacefulness in mine bungalow by der river — ten mile away. Dot brute Tim, he come unt ask me to fiddle for a dance. I — fiddle! Ven I refuse me to do it, he tie me up unt by forcibleness elope mit me. Iss id nod a crime — a vickedness — eh?”

  “It certainly is, sir,” said Uncle John. “But do not worry. These girls have some plan in their heads, I’m sure, and if we manage to escape we will carry you home in safety. Now, my dears, what is it?”

  “Oh, we’ve only begun to think yet,” said Patsy, and walked to the window. All but Myrtle and Dan’l followed her.

  Below the window was a jungle of cactus, with hundreds of spines as slender and sharp as stilettos sticking in every direction.

  “H-m; this room is burglar proof,” muttered Uncle John, with marked disappointment.

  “It also makes an excellent prison,” added Patsy. “But I suspected something of this sort when I saw they had left the window open. We can’t figure on getting out that way, you see.”

  “Id vould be suiciding,” Dan’l said, mournfully shaking his head. “If dese fiends were as goot as dey are clefer, dey vould be angels.”

  “No argument seems to prevail with them,” remarked Beth. “They are lawless and merciless, and in this far-away country believe they may do as they please.”

  “They’re as bad as the bandits of Taormina,” observed Patsy, smiling at the recollection of an adventure they had abroad; “but we must find some way to evade them.”

  Dan’l had gone over to Myrtle’s corner and stood staring at her with his one shrewd eye. Uncle John looked thoughtfully out of the window and saw Wampus busy in the road before the house. He had his coat off and was cutting the bars of barbed wire and rolling them out of the way, while Mumbles, who had been left with him, ran here and there at his heels as if desiring to assist him.

  From the big hall, or living room, at the right came a dull roar of voices, subdued shouts and laughter, mingled with the clinking of glasses. All the remittance men were gathered there deep in the game of dice which was to determine the order in which they were to dance with Beth and Patsy. The servants were out of sight. Wampus had the field to himself.

  “Come here,” said Uncle John to the girls, and when they stood beside him pointed to the car. “Wampus is making ready for the escape,” he continued. “He has cleared the road and the way is now open if we can manage to get to the machine. Has your plan matured yet?”

  Patsy shook her head.

  “Not yet, Uncle,” she replied.

  “Couldn’t Wampus throw us a rope?” inquired the Major.

  “He could,” said Uncle John; “but we would be unable to use it. Those terrible cactus spines are near enough to spear anyone who dared try to slide down a rope. Think of something else.”

  They all tried to do that, but no practical idea seemed forthcoming.

  “Oh, no,” Dan’l was saying to Myrtle; “dey are nod afraid to shoot; bud dey vill nod shoot ladies, belief me. Always dey carry refolfers in deir belts — or deir holsterses. Dey eat mit refolfers; dey schleep mit refolfers; dey hunt, dey quarrel, unt sometimes dey shoot each odder — de best enactionment vot dey do. Bud dey do nod shoot at ladies — nefer.”

  “Will they wear their revolvers at the dance?” asked Beth, overhearing this speech.

  “I belief id,” said Dan’l, wagging his ancient head. “Dey like to be ready to draw quick like, if anybody shteps on anybody’s toes. Yes; of course.”

  “What a horrible idea!” exclaimed Patsy.

  “They’re quite liable to dance and murder in the same breath,” the

  Major observed, gloomily.

  “I don’t like it,” said Beth. “It’s something awful just to think of.

  Haven’t they any gallantry?”

  “No,” answered Patsy. “But I wouldn’t dance with a lot of half drunken men wearing revolvers, if they burned me at the stake for refusing.”

  “Ah! shtick to dat fine expressionment,” cried Dan’l, eagerly. “Shtick to id! Say you won’t dance if dey wear de refolfers — unt den we win de schweepstakes!”

  Patsy looked at him critically, in the instant catching a part of his idea.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Dan’l explained, while they all listened carefully, absorbed in following in thought his unique suggestions.

  “Let’s do it!” exclaimed Beth. “I’m sure the plan will succeed.”

  “It’s leaving a good deal to chance,” objected Uncle John, with a touch of nervousness.

  “There is an element of chance in everything,” declared Patsy. “But

  I’m sure we shall escape, Uncle. Why it’s a regular coup!”

  “We take them by surprise, you know,” explained the Major, who heartily favored the idea.

  They talked it over for a time, perfecting the details, and then became as calm and composed as a group of prisoners might. Uncle John waved his handkerchief to attract the attention of Wampus, who stole softly around the corner of the house and approached the window, taking care to keep at a respectful distance
from the dangerous cactus.

  “Is everything ready?” inquired Uncle John in a subdued voice.

  “To be sure all is ready. Why not? I am Wampus!” was the reply, in cautious tones.

  “Go back to the machine and guard it carefully, Wampus,” commanded Mr. Merrick. “We expect to escape soon after dark, so have the headlights going, for we shall make a rush for it and there mustn’t be a moment’s delay.”

  “All right,” said the chauffeur. “You may depend on me. I am Wampus, an’ not ‘fraid of a hundred coward like these. Is not Mister Algy his eye mos’ beautiful blacked?”

  “It is,” agreed Uncle John. “Go back to the car now, and wait for us. Don’t get impatient. We don’t know just when we will join you, but it will be as soon as we can manage it. What is Mumbles doing?”

  “Mumble he learn to be good automobilist. Jus’ now he sit on seat an’ watch wheel to see nobody touch. If anybody touch, Mumble he eat him up.”

  They all laughed at this whimsical notion and it served to relieve the strain of waiting. Wampus, grinning at the success of his joke, went back to the limousine to inspect it carefully and adjust it in every part until it was in perfect order.

  Now that a definite plan of action had been decided upon their spirits rose considerably, and they passed the afternoon in eager anticipation of the crisis.

  Rather earlier than expected Stubby and Tim came to say “they had been appointed a committee to escort their guests to the banquet hall, where dinner would at once be served.”

  “We shall have to clear away for the dance,” added Stubby, “so we want to get the feast over with as quickly as possible. I hope you are all hungry, for Algy has spread himself on this dinner and we are to have every delicacy the ranch affords, regardless of expense. We can economize afterward to make up for it.”

  Elaborate preparations were not greatly in evidence, however. The Mexican servants had washed themselves and the floor of the big room had been swept and cleared of some of its rubbish; but that was all. The remittance men were in their usual rough costumes and the air was redolent with the fumes of liquor.

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE ESCAPE

  As the prisoners quietly took their places at the table Tobey, who had been drinking hard, decided to make a speech. His face was badly swollen and he could only see through a slit in one eye, so severe had been the beating administered by Wampus earlier in the day; but the fellow had grit, in spite of his other unmanly qualities, and his imperturbable good humor had scarcely been disturbed by the punishment the Canadian had inflicted upon him.

  “Ladies,” said he, “and gentlemen — which of course includes our respected male guests — I am happy to inform you that the programme for the First Annual Hades Ranch Ball has finally been arranged, and the dances apportioned in a fair and impartial manner. The Grand March will take place promptly at seven o’clock, led by Miss Doyle and Knuckles, who has won the privilege by throwing four sixes. I am to follow with Miss De Graf, and the rest will troop on behind with the privilege of looking at the ladies. If anyone dares to create disorder his dances with the young ladies will be forfeited. Dan’l will play the latest dance music on his fiddle, and if it isn’t spirited and up-to-date we’ll shoot his toes off. We insist upon plenty of two-steps and waltzes and will wind up with a monney-musk in the gray light of dawn. This being fully understood, I beg you, my good friends, to fall to and eat and be merry; but don’t linger unduly over the dainties, for we are all anxious, like good soldiers, to get into action.”

  The remittance men applauded this oratory, and incidentally attacked the eatables with evident determination to obey their leader’s injunction.

  “We can eat any time,” remarked Stubby, with his mouth full; “but his Satanic majesty only knows when Hades Ranch will see another dance — with real ladies for partners.”

  The Chinese cooks and the Mexican servants had a lively time during this meal, for the demands made upon them were incessant. Uncle John, whose even disposition was seldom ruffled, ate with a good appetite, while even the Major, glum and scowling, did not disdain the numerous well-prepared dishes. As for Dan’l, he took full advantage of the occasion and was the last one to leave the table. Our girls, however, were too excited to eat much and little Myrtle, especially, was pallid and uneasy and had a startled look in her eyes whenever anyone made a sudden motion.

  As soon as the repast was concluded the servants cleared the long table in a twinkling and pushed it back against the wall at one end of the long room. A chair was placed for Dan’l on top of this expansive board, which thus became a stage from whence he could overlook the room and the dancers, and then two of the remittance men tossed the old fiddler to his elevated place and commanded him to make ready.

  Dan’l said nothing and offered no resistance. He sat plaintively sawing upon his ancient but rich-toned violin while the floor was brushed, the chairs and benches pushed against the wall and the room prepared for action. Behind the violinist was a low, broad window facing a grass plot that was free from the terrifying cactus, and the old man noted with satisfaction that it stood wide open.

  Uncle John’s party had pressed close to the table and stood watching the proceedings.

  “Ready now!” called Tobey; “the Grand March is about to begin. Take your partners, boys. Look sharp, there, Dan’l, and give us a martial tune that will lift our feet.”

  Dan’l meekly set the violin underneath his chin and raised the bow as if in readiness. “Knuckles,” a brawny fellow with a florid face and a peculiar squint, approached Patsy and bowed.

  “You’re to lead with me, Miss,” he said. “Are you ready?”

  “Not quite,” she returned with dignified composure; “for I perceive you are not quite ready yourself.”

  “Eh? Why not?” he inquired, surprised.

  “You are still wearing your firearms,” she replied. “I cannot and will not dance with a man who carries a revolver.”

  “That’s nothing,” he retorted. “We always do.”

  “Always?”

  “Of course. And if I shed my gun what’s to prevent some one else getting the drop on me?”

  “That’s it,” said Patsy, firmly. “The weapons must all be surrendered before we begin. We positively refuse to dance if rioting and shooting are likely to occur.”

  A murmur of protest arose at this speech, for all the remittance men had gathered around to listen to the argument.

  “That’s all tommy-rot,” observed Handsome Tim, in a sulky tone. “We’re not spoiling for a row; it’s the dance we’re after.”

  “Then give up the revolvers,” said Beth, coming to her cousin’s assistance. “If this is to be a peaceful entertainment you will not need to be armed, and it is absurd to suppose a lady will dance with a gentleman who is a walking arsenal.”

  They looked into one another’s faces uncertainly. Dan’l sat softly tuning his violin, as if uninterested in the controversy. Uncle John and the Major looked on with seeming indifference.

  “You must decide which you prefer — the revolvers or the dance,” remarked Patsy, staring coolly into the ring of faces.

  “Would your English ladies at home consent to dance with armed men?” asked Beth.

  “They’re quite right, boys,” said Stubby, nodding his bullethead. “Let’s agree to deposit all the shooting irons ‘til the dance is over.”

  “I won’t!” cried Knuckles, his scowl deepening.

  “By Jove, you will!” shouted Tobey, with unexpected vehemence. “You’re delaying the programme, old man, and it’s a nuisance to dance in this armor, anyway. Here — pile all your guns in this corner; every one of you, mind. Then we shall all stand on an equal footing.”

  “Put them on the table there, by the old fiddler,” said Patsy; “then we will know we are perfectly safe.”

  Rather unwillingly they complied, each man walking up to the table and placing his revolver at Dan’l’s feet. The girls watched them intently.


  “That man over there is still armed,” called Beth, pointing to a swarthy Mexican who squatted near the door.

  “That’s all right,” said Tobey, easily. “He’s our guard, Pedro. I’ve stationed him there so you won’t attempt to escape till we get ready to let you go.”

  Patsy laughed.

  “There’s little danger of that,” she said.

  “All ready, now!” exclaimed Knuckles, impatiently. “We’re all as harmless as doves. Let ‘er go, Dan’l!”

  The old man was just then assisting Uncle John to lift Myrtle to the top of the table, where the Major had placed a chair for her. Knuckles growled, but waited until the girl was seated near the window. Then Dan’l drew his bow and struck up a spirited march. Patsy took the arm of Knuckles and paraded down the long room. Beth followed with Tobey, and behind them tramped the remittance men in files of two. At the far end were grouped the servants, looking curiously upon the scene, which was lighted by lamps swung from the ceiling and a row of candles upon the edge of the mantelshelf.

  To carry out the idea of a grand march Patsy drew her escort here and there by sharp turns and half circles, the others trailing behind like a huge snake until she had passed down the length of the room and started to return up the other side to the starting point. So engrossed had been the cowboys that they did not observe the Major and Uncle John clamber upon the table and stand beside Myrtle.

  The procession was half way up the hall on its return when Patsy said abruptly: “Now, Beth!” and darted away from her partner’s side and toward the table. Beth followed like a streak, being an excellent runner, and for a moment Knuckles and Tobey, thus deserted by their partners, stopped to watch them in amazement. Then their comrades bumped into them and recalled them to their senses.

  By that time the two girls had reached the table and leaped upon it. Uncle John was waving his handkerchief from the window as a signal to Wampus; Dan’l had laid aside his fiddle and seized a revolver in either hand, and the Major had caught up two more of the discarded weapons.

  As Beth and Patsy turned, panting, and from their elevation looked up the room, the cowboys gave a bellow of rage and rushed forward.