Howard Roger Garis

“ He was having fun now, being “’mused” as his mother had told him he would be, and he did not much care what Ted or Janet did—at least for a while.
“Is he all right?” asked Ted, as his sister joined him under an apple tree where an old well had been dug.
“Yes, I guess he’ll stay there until we play diamond mine a while,” said Janet. “But are you sure it will be all right, Ted?”
“Sure I am. I’ll just step on the bucket and hold to the rope, and all you’ll have to do is to keep hold of the handle and let it unwind slowly. Then I’ll go down in the well and we’ll play it’s a diamond mine.” ”

“ Ted had rather queer ideas, but he meant no wrong, and soon the three children were under the trees, gathering the fruit. It was just getting ripe.
Presently Trouble, who seemed to care more about running around than he did about picking up apples, gave a cry and pointed at something in a distant field.
“What is it?” asked Janet.
“It’s a man. He’s coming here,” announced the little fellow. “I see a tramp man.”
“Oh, Ted!” gasped Janet, “what’ll we do?”
“Well, if it’s a tramp we’ll just go back to our boat,” decided the Curlytop lad. “He won’t dare say a word when he sees father and mother.” ”

“ A BIG CROWD
Nothing causes quite so much excitement as does a fire. And when the fire is on your own street, and near your house, and perhaps in the home of some one you know—why, then there is excitement enough to cause even the grown-ups to move about quickly.
And this is just what happened when Ted Martin called out:
“I guess your house is on fire, Mr. Cardwell!”
Mr. and Mrs. Martin, as well as their visitor who had brought the two old photograph albums with him, ran to the door. And you may be sure that Janet was there ahead of them, for she had heard what her brother shouted. ”

“ Much pleased that he did not have to stay away altogether from the fire, the Curlytop lad followed his mother and the others. The engines were already on hand, and it [37] was their puffing and tooting of whistles that had made some of the noise.
“It isn’t Mr. Cardwell’s house, though,” said Mrs. Martin, when she and the Curlytops, with Trouble, had gone far enough down the street to see just where the fire was. “It’s next door to him.”
“I wouldn’t want a fire next door to me,” sighed Janet.
“I would!” cried Ted. “You could see it fine!”
“A fire is a terrible thing,” said Mrs. Martin. ”

“ Again the pony ambled forward, with Janet and Trouble on its back, and Ted ran forward to get on. Janet did just as the director told her to, and her brother slipped off in a funny fashion.
“That’s fine!” cried Mr. Birch, with a laugh. “You children will be in the movies some day. It’s a good thing you fell off, Ted, even if it was accidental at first, for it gave me an idea. That’s the way it often happens in this sort of work—accidents, many times, make the best scenes.” ”

“ Then it was that the Curlytop lad let out a yell that awakened every one in the temporary camp—awakened even Trouble and Janet who were sleeping very soundly.
“Oh, Daddy! Mother!” yelled Teddy. “There’s a big animal with horns coming into the tent. Look!”
The head of the beast was now well within the tent, and it leaned right over Ted’s cot. But you can be sure the little lad was not there. No, indeed! He had rolled off on the other side, falling to the grassy ground. ”

“ Teeter suddenly asked:
“How about a motor boat?”
“A motor boat?” asked Mr. Martin. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” explained the lumberman, [207] “how would you like to keep on touring in a motor craft? I suppose cruising would be a better word than touring, when you speak of a boat. But how about it?”
“A boat would be dandy fun!” exclaimed Ted.
“I think so, too,” added his sister.
“But it would take us as long to arrange to hire a boat as it would to wait for a new wheel,” objected Mr. Martin. “Besides, how could we get to Bentville by boat?”
“Very easily,” answered Mr. Teeter. ”

“ A lot of men with megaphones are shouting directions, and other men are grinding away at the cranks of moving picture machines. So I guess it’s real enough.”
“Oh, Daddy, please take us there!” begged the Curlytops.
“Shall we go, Mother?” asked Mr. Martin of his wife.
“Yes, I would like to see it,” she answered. “And I’m sure the children would be amused.”
“Oh, say, I guess we would!” murmured Janet.
“Come on, Dad! Step on it!” cried Ted, meaning for his father to press on the gasoline accelerator of the car and move the machine faster. ”

“ It was arranged that Trouble and Janet would sleep on the seats of the auto, with the side curtains put up so they would be snug and comfortable. And on cots, under the extended tent, Ted, his mother and his father would pass the night.
Supper was eaten with keen appetites, and then the Martin family sat about in the beautiful evening glow, singing songs and telling stories. They saw no signs of life, no near-by farmers happened along, and not [164] so much as one car passed up or down the road. ”

“ Martin was making another search among the robes and valises for the box, one of the cowboys who had taken part in the moving picture rode past. Ted and Janet looked at him with eager eyes, for he was a hero to them.
Seeing the children, the actor smiled, and then, noticing that something was wrong, he stopped his horse, removed his big, broad-brimmed [68] hat in a bow to Mrs. Martin and asked:
“Is anything wrong? Can I help you? Did some of our people bump into your car? I know that sometimes happens when a crowd gathers as we are taking films.” ”

“ Martin, “and you can drive home in the car.”
“That’s a good idea,” said the father of the Curlytops.
You can imagine how delighted Ted, Janet and Trouble were as they sat on the little deck of the Pine Tree and looked at the scenery along the Rockaway River, up which they were puffing their way to reach Crystal Lake. Mr. Martin knew how to run and steer a motor boat. In quiet stretches of the river he allowed Ted and Janet to hold the wheel for a time.
[211] “It’s just lovely here,” said Mrs. Martin with a happy sigh as she leaned back against a cushion. “It’s much nicer than the auto.” ”

“ The only way to get back those albums seems to be to get in touch with Mr. Portnay personally, and I can best do that by staying here. The children ought to like it,” he murmured, as he looked over the big, pleasant farm.
“Why, certainly! By all means, stay!” exclaimed Mrs. Martin, when told of the situation. “We don’t have to travel on until we get ready.”
“No,” agreed her husband. “And I certainly must get those albums back or there will be trouble in the Cardwell family. Well, I guess the best thing to do is to stay.”
“Oh, goodie!” cried Janet, when she heard this.
“Hurray!” shouted Ted. ”

“ But at last [163] Mrs. Martin spied what seemed to all of them to be a delightful place. It was in a meadow, on the edge of a clump of woods, and there was a spring of water near by. It is always wise to camp near water.
“This seems all right,” agreed Mr. Martin, as he drove the auto into the glade. “And there aren’t any neighbors.”
He spoke truly, for there was not a house in sight. It was a beautiful spot, very quiet and restful.
“Not even a cow,” said Janet.
Ted helped his father get the portable tent out and attach it to the sides of the car while Mrs. Martin prepared the evening meal. ”

“ Usually it was only a drink that William wanted.
But this time, when Mrs. Martin became aware that he was calling to her from his little bunk in the sleeping cabin, she did not hear him ask for water.
“Mommie! Mommie!” murmured the little fellow.
“Yes, dear, what is it?” asked his mother sleepily.
“Why don’t you let the pussy in?” asked Trouble.
“What pussy, Trouble?” she asked, not yet quite awake. “There isn’t any pussy here. You must be dreaming. Go to sleep again.”
“Yes they is a pussy!” insisted the little fellow, sitting up in his berth. ”

“ Take away our books, and we become slaves, unknown and unknowing.
They BURNED the books in that dark land of oppression and cast into the flames not only words of beauty and knowledge, but a symbol of liberty: Man’s right to read the books of his choice. ”

“ Mr. Martin gave his consent, and so, for the second time, the Curlytops faced the camera. Or, rather, they didn’t exactly face it, for if you will notice in moving pictures, the players hardly ever gaze directly at you, which means that they don’t peer straight at the lens of the camera.
But Ted threw in his baited hook and waited for a bite, while the flip-flop man, hidden in the grass around the bend in the bank, fastened on a rubber boot. ”

“ We wouldn’t go up as we do when the motor is running.”
“The motor isn’t running now,” said Ted, and it was not—the engine having been shut off when they anchored for the night. “But what makes us move, Daddy?”
“Something has hold of our anchor rope [217] and is pulling us upstream by it,” said Mr. Martin.
“You mean an alligator?” asked Ted. “Oh, I wish it was daylight! I’d like to see an alligator!”
“No, not an alligator,” said Mr. Martin, with a smile. “There are none of those creatures in these waters. But something is towing us all right.” ”

“ Mr. Dawson, who owned and ran the big [104] farm, was a jolly kind of man. He was proud of his place, and one reason he consented to let the movie people take scenes of it was so that other persons, all over the country, would see what a fine farm his was.
“They’re going to show a picture of me, too,” said Mr. Dawson to Mr. Martin. “And the name ‘Dawson’s Farm’ is to go in some of the titles. We farmers ought to make the world proud of us, and by showing movies of a big farm like this city folks will think more of the man who tills the soil.” ”

“ Martin was waiting for an answer to the letter he had sent to New York, asking Mr. Portnay to return the photograph albums taken by mistake, there was nothing to do save to amuse himself as well as he could at the farm and make the best of matters.
The moving picture actor might ship the box of albums back by express, or he might bring them himself, so Mr. Weldon said.
“Harry Portnay is a queer chap,” said the cowboy actor who had leaped his horse over the fence to save Trouble from the ugly boar. “He never does what you think he will. ”

“ Mr. and Mrs. Martin also thanked Mr. Weldon that night, after they had heard how he had gotten Trouble out of danger. The Curlytops and their friends were now well settled at the farm, where they would remain about a week.
“Though if Mr. Portnay sends back that box of albums any sooner, we might travel on,” said Mr. Martin.
“Oh, let’s stay here!” pleaded Jan. “It’s lovely here!”
“We can have lots of fun,” added Ted.
“Well, since we started this tour mainly to give you children a good vacation time, and since you like it here, we might as well stay for a while,” said their father. ”

“ Portnay has no part, so he isn’t needed here. But when he comes back he can bring your box.”
“I suppose that is the best I can do,” said Mr. Martin, a bit disappointed. “But I am touring around with my family. I didn’t count on staying here a week.”
“It’s a good place to stay,” urged Mr. Birch, with a smile. “We movie people have engaged board here, and there is room for more. Why don’t you stay with your family? You’ll see some interesting sights. We’re going to film a big part of the picture here. And Dawson’s Farm is a good place for a vacation.” ”

“ And when animals are puzzled they don’t act as quickly as when they know just what is going on.
However, neither Ted nor Janet would have reached Trouble in time to save him. [111] For as Ted got through the barbed wire fence, which alone prevented the boar from getting out of the pasture, there was a thud and rush of feet and a voice shouted:
“I’ll get him! Stand still, little boy!”
The rush of feet were the galloping hoofs of a horse. And the voice was that of Mr. Weldon, the movie actor. ”

“ When evening came the touring Curlytops and their family were back where they had started from—the place where the river ran out of the lake.
“We’ll tie up here for the night, and when morning comes we’ll navigate down the river,” said Mr. Martin. “We’ll get to the lumber camp more quickly than we came away from it, for we shall be going downstream instead of against the current.”
“Suppose the movie people are gone—what then?” asked Ted.
“Well, the men in the lumber camp will know where they went,” answered his father. “We’ll find them sooner or later, and get back the right box of albums.” ”

“ If winter was coming on he’d be a pretty sick monkey—out in the open like this.”
“I wish I could have this monkey!” pleaded Trouble. “I like a monkey better’n I do a nellifunt, I guess!”
“Well, that’s quite a thing for you to say!” laughed the little fellow’s father. “But I’m afraid we can’t get you this for a playmate. Hold fast, children, I’m going to start.”
As he was about to let in the clutch and send the car ahead, there appeared, running around the bend in the road, an excited Italian organ grinder with his music box. ”

“ Mr. Martin owned a big touring car, and he bought a camping outfit and tent to go with it. The tent could be fastened to one side of the car, and cots put beneath the canvas covering.
“The children can sleep in the car, when it rains too hard,” decided Mrs. Martin.
“And can we cook, and eat and everything like that out of doors?” Janet wanted to know.
“Of course we have to cook!” declared Ted. “I’m going to make the campfires,” he declared.
“We’ll see about that,” Mr. Martin said. “Very likely we’ll take along an alcohol stove. That’s more certain for cooking than wet wood. ”