The Clockwork Twin (9 page)

VII
Adoniram's Uncle Comes For Him

Uncle Ben repaired Bertram the next morning, and at noon Ronald hopped into the control room and drove the clockwork boy up to the house to meet Adoniram. Bertram shook hands with the boy, and with Mr. and Mrs. Bean, and walked and ran and sat down and threw stones and showed some of the things he could do.

“Land sakes!” said Mrs. Bean, “you'd swear the creature was alive. What won't Uncle Ben think up next!”

“The Beans are a smart family, Mrs. B.,” said her husband.

“It takes you to say it,” said Mrs. Bean.

“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Bean, “smart's the word for 'em. But I can only think of one of 'em that ever did anything smarter than what Uncle Ben's done with this Bertram.”

“And what was that, Mr. B.?”

“That was when I married you,” said the farmer, and slapped Mrs. Bean on the shoulder.

“Get along with you!” said Mrs. Bean blushing, and then she turned to Adoniram and said: “Well, how do you like him?”

“Oh, I think he's grand,” said the boy. “We can have lots of fun together.”

“How about going fishing this afternoon, Adoniram?” said Bertram.

Adoniram was delighted with the idea, and he ran and got the poles and dug some worms, and he and Bertram strode off down the road together, talking and laughing as happily as if they were really two boys going fishing.

The animals had all gathered by the back door to see Bertram presented to the family, and now several of them started after the boys. But Mr. Bean called to them to stop. “You animals mind your own business. You're going to have plenty of chances to look at Bertram without chasing after him now. What fun do you think Adoniram'll have fishing if there's an animal hiding in every bush? I know what it was like, that time you were all playing detective, and I couldn't move a blade of grass without finding a pig or a rabbit under it. Leave 'em alone.” And he picked up his hoe and started for the garden.

But Mrs. Bean stopped him. “Before you go,” she said, “did you see this letter that came this morning? It's from Adoniram's folks, but I didn't want to speak about it in front of him.”

Mr. Bean took the letter, put on a pair of very small steel spectacles, and read the letter through once upside down, and then he read it through right side up, and then he scratched his head and said: “Shucks!”

“They're comin' for him tomorrow,” said Mrs. Bean.

“What!” exclaimed Uncle Ben.

“They won't let us adopt him,” said Mrs. Bean. “They want him back.”

“Fury!” said Uncle Ben.

“Nothing we can do, Mrs. B.,” said Mr. Bean. “They got the rights of it, seemingly. Poor boy! I was gettin' right fond of him, too.”

“Well, they shan't have him back,” said Mrs. Bean, getting very red. It was the first time any of the animals had ever seen her angry. “Horrid, cruel people! I won't give him up. I—”

“Now, now, Mrs. B.,” said her husband, “no use gettin' het up over it. I talked it all over with Mr. Jerks, the attorney, over to Centerboro, and he says—”

“I don't care what your old attorney says,” burst out Mrs. Bean. “That boy's
not going back!
Not if I have to get that old shotgun of yours and drive 'em off.”

Uncle Ben and Mr. Bean looked at each other and pursed up their lips, and then they looked around at the ring of interested animals. “We mustn't get the wrong side of the law,” said Mr. Bean at last. “Just the same, it seems as if we ought to be able to think up
something.
After all, we got a whole day. You animals,” he said suddenly “—what's the matter with you all? You're smart—you've got the name of being the smartest animals in York State. Well—prove it! Get to thinking. Hold a meeting. Hold six meetings. But think of something before tomorrow.

“Wait a minute,” he added, as the animals started to walk away, all trying very hard to look thoughtful. “Remember, we don't want to hurt these people. But remember, too, that animals can do things that humans can't. If we drive these folks away, they'll just go get the sheriff and maybe arrest us. But the law can't touch animals.—Now, go think!”

The amount of thinking that a couple of dozen farm animals can do in an afternoon is quite surprising. By supper time, when Adoniram and Bertram came back with a nice string of yellow perch, they had thought of sixteen separate plans. The meeting they held in the barn that night was one of the hottest debates in the history of the Bean farm. They voted and voted, and at last at midnight, when several animals had fainted from excitement and had to be carried outside, and Charles had spoken until he was so hoarse he could no longer be heard, a plan was adopted. It wasn't a very good plan, but it seemed the best of the sixteen.

The following day scouts were posted on the hills overlooking the road by which Adoniram's relatives were expected to arrive. Adoniram had been got out of the way by sending him and Bertram off to Centerboro in the phaeton, drawn by Hank. Mr. Bean had given them each fifty cents and told them to have a good time, and he had privately told Hank not to get them back before supper.

At two o'clock a handkerchief fluttered on the top of Swan Hill, and was answered from half a dozen other heights, and from the roof of the Bean house, where two squirrels were keeping watch. Adoniram's uncle and aunt, rattling along eastward in their old car, saw nothing unusual in the peaceful countryside until, about two miles from the Bean farm, they came upon three cows standing in the middle of the road, who lowered their horns threateningly as the car came to a stop.

Adoniram's uncle got out and picked up a stick to drive the cows away, but as he did so eight skunks came out of the bushes and advanced upon him. These were Sniffy Wilson and his family, who had volunteered for the first line of defence. Adoniram's uncle bounced back into the car as if he had springs in his heels. But instead of turning around, as the animals had expected, he swung out into the ditch around the cows, knocked over Snuffy, Sniffy's little brother, and two seconds later was roaring on up the road.

“Well, that's that,” said Mrs. Wiggins. “He's got more spunk than I thought he'd have.”

“He isn't a man that gives up easy,” said Mrs. Wurzburger. “I'm afraid he'll get Adoniram yet.”

“Well, so long, girls,” called Sniffy. “Sorry we had no better luck. But if you need us again, we're ready.” And they dove back into the bushes. The cows followed along after the car at a trot, and a quarter of a mile farther on came up with it. It had stopped again, and Adoniram's uncle was working at a small tree which had fallen across the road. Freddy had hired a couple of beavers to cut it down that morning.

“Look out,” yelled Adoniram's aunt, “here comes those cows!”

The man turned to face them, and at that moment out of the bushes burst a dozen animals—horses, sheep, a goat, and Peter, the big bear from down in the woods. They closed in on Adoniram's uncle, and Peter held him while Jinx, who was clever at knots, tied him up tight with a length of clothesline.

“Load him in the car, boys,” yelled Jinx. “We'll drag them down to the river and give 'em a good ducking. We'll teach 'em to be mean to little boys! We'll send 'em back where they came from.”

Now this part of the plan would probably have worked all right, and Adoniram's aunt and uncle would probably have been so thoroughly scared by the behavior of such wild animals that they would never have ventured into that part of the country again. But they had thought there might be trouble in getting Adoniram back, so they had brought along a gun. They weren't very nice people.

The first thing the animals knew about the gun, there was a bang, and the whistle of a bullet over their heads. Fortunately, Adoniram's aunt wasn't a very good shot, so she didn't hit anybody. But there was nothing for any sensible animal to do but run. In three seconds after the report there wasn't an animal in sight.

Adoniram's aunt got out and untied her husband, and after he had danced up and down the road for a few minutes in his rage, he got back into the car and they drove on. And pretty soon they came to the Bean farm.

Everything was quiet around the farm; not even a chicken was in sight. The car drew up at the gate, and Adoniram's uncle started to get out, and then stopped suddenly. For on the gate was a large sign: “MEASLES.”

“Look at this,” he said. “I can't go in here. I never had measles.”

“You had German measles,” said his wife.

“It ain't the same thing,” he said. “Anyway, what's the use of arguing? You've had both kinds. Get out and go in and get Adoniram.”

So after quite an argument she got out and went in the gate.

But in less than a minute she was back again.

“There's another sign on the door,” she said. “It says ‘Scarlet fever.' I never had scarlet fever, but you did, so I guess you'll have to go in.”

“I can't go in,” said Adoniram's uncle. “This sign says ‘Measles' and I never had measles.”

“You had German measles,” said Adoniram's aunt. And the argument began all over again.

All around the barnyard, behind trees and bushes and sheds and fences, the animals were hidden, and as the argument went on and on and got hotter and hotter, they squirmed and panted and stuffed grass in their mouths to keep from laughing out loud. But pretty soon Adoniram's uncle got so mad at Adoniram's aunt that he slapped her, and then she pulled his hair, and then they fought each other until they were out of breath. And at last Adoniram's uncle said: “Well, all right. We won't either of us go in. No use wasting time here. We'll go down to Centerboro and telephone. If Adoniram's got something catching, we'll have to come for him again when he gets well.” And he started up the engine and drove off.

“Darn it,” said Freddy, “wouldn't you think it would be enough for them just to see the signs? If they call up, Mrs. Bean'll tell 'em that Adoniram isn't sick, and then they'll come back.”

“I could stick around and answer the phone when it rings,” said Jinx, “if you can get Mrs. Bean out of the house for a while. Can't you have a fit or faint away or something?”

“Hey, look, Freddy,” said Georgie. “Hadn't somebody ought to warn Adoniram? I mean, if these people go to Centerboro, they might see him.”

“Good gracious, I never thought of that,” said the pig. “But we can't get there before they do.”

“I could,” said Ferdinand, who was sitting on the fence, listening to the conversation.

“Main Street in Centerboro is no place for a crow, Ferdinand. You know that. But wait a minute. How about that friend of yours, Jinx, that wasp—what's his name? Fellow that came in first in that free-for-all insects' cross-country run last year.”

“Jacob?” said Jinx. “Sure, he'd go. I'll get him,” and Jinx dashed off.

“All right,” said Freddy. “That fixes that. Now I'm going to faint. No giggling, you fellows.” And he walked out into the middle of the barnyard, gave a loud squeal, and fell over on his back with all four feet in the air.

Meanwhile Jacob, swiftly instructed by Jinx, crawled out of his nest under the eaves of the barn, saw that his sting was in working order—“because you never know,” he said, “when you may have to fight your way out of a tight spot”—and took flight. He spiraled up until he was over the barn, and then, with all four wings whirring, aimed like a bullet for Centerboro church spire.

He had gone about four miles when he saw below him on the road Adoniram's aunt and uncle chugging along in the same direction. He overhauled them swiftly, then swooped down and flew just above them for a way, listening to their conversation.

“You wait till I get my hands on him,” Adoniram's uncle was saying. “I'll bet he won't try to run away again.”

“I wonder how he'll like being locked up in the cellar on bread and water for a week,” said Adoniram's aunt.

Jacob swooped down and lit on the seat just behind them. He took out his sting and polished it on the upholstery and looked longingly at the back of Adoniram's uncle's neck. But then he shook his head regretfully. “Mustn't exceed orders,” he said. And he rose with an angry buzz that made them both duck, and flew on.

Jacob flew up and down Main Street, looking in the windows of bakeries and candy stores for Bertram and Adoniram. They weren't anywhere in sight. But at the curb in front of the Centerboro Cinema Palace he saw the old phaeton with Hank asleep between the shafts. So he flew into the theater.

It was very dark inside after the sunlit street and he couldn't see a thing. He flew down the aisle, buzzing rather loudly in his nervousness, and several people crouched down and said: “Look out! There's a wasp in here,” and one old lady made a pass at him and hit the man next to her on the ear. The man hadn't heard Jacob, and he was naturally surprised, and gave the old lady a shove. Then he saw that she was an old lady and started to apologize, but by that time the old lady was mad, so she hit him again, and another man behind him, who had seen him shove the old lady, also hit him. And then the first man got really mad and hit the second man, and everybody shouted: “Quiet, quiet! Throw them out!” And two more men joined in, and in about two minutes half the people in the theater were arguing and shoving each other, and five fights had started. But Jacob was sitting on the big chandelier above it all, looking for Adoniram.

Pretty soon the noise got so bad that the movie stopped and the lights went on. A lot of people were starting for the door, and among them Jacob at last saw the two he was looking for. There was no use trying to get Adoniram's attention, so he dropped down and lit on Bertram's necktie and leaned out and waved his feelers in front of the little window to attract Ronald's attention.