"Ladies and gentlemen," cried Hippy. "We have a noble animal for sale here. He is tame and gentle. A lady could ride him without fear. He sees equally well out of both eyes and is neither lame nor spavined. If you will just stand back a little we will let you see his paces."
The crowd drew back on either side of the lane between the rows of tents and booths and from somewhere in the back there was heard a great pawing and trampling, with cries of "Whoa, there! Whoa, there, Lightning!"
Then down the aisle there dashed the most absurd comic animal that had ever been seen in Oakdale. A dilapidated old horse, with crooked legs and sunken sides through which its ribs protruded. He had widely distended nostrils and his mouth drawn back over huge teeth. One ear lay flat, while the other stood up straight and wiggled, and his glazed eyes stared wildly. On his wobbly back sat David, dressed like a jockey and flourishing a whip.
"Gentlemen," went on Hippy, "you here behold an animal of splendid parts. He is pasture-fed and as gentle as a lamb, never kicks—"
The strange animal here kicked out one of his hind legs so wildly that David was obliged to hold on with both arms to keep from falling off.
"He has a happy, sunny nature, ladies. Is there any one present who would like to try his gait? Ten cents a ride."
The horse crossed his front legs and sat down on his haunches with an air of patient endurance. There were roars of laughter and no one enjoyed the fun more than Miss Thompson.
"I declare, Hippy, I should like to have a ride on the back of that animal!" she exclaimed, producing ten cents.
David leaped to the ground and gallantly assisted the principal to mount, while Hippy whispered something into the ear of the horse.
The animal trotted gently up to one end of the room and back, depositing Miss Thompson safely on her feet.
Miriam Nesbit then took a trial ride and no bucking bronco ever exhibited such traits of character as did that battered-looking quadruped. Miriam was obliged to jump down amid the cheers of the company. Many people rode that night, and rides went up to twenty-five and even fifty cents, until finally the poor, tired animal lay flat on the floor in an attitude of complete exhaustion. Then Hippy undid several hooks and eyes along the imaginary line which divided Lightning in half, and there came forth, very warm and fatigued, Tom Gray and Reddy Brooks.
On the whole the bazaar was proving an unqualified success. People entered into the spirit of the thing and spent their money without a murmur.
Eleanor's confetti proved a drawing card, and young people and old wandered about, bestowing handfuls of it upon their friends whenever a good opportunity presented itself.
Long before the fair was over Grace and Anne retired to one end of the gypsy encampment to begin counting the proceeds of their labors. The girls in charge of the various booths turned in their money almost as rapidly as they made it, and by the time the crowd had begun to thin the girls had arrived at a tolerably correct estimate of what the bazaar had netted them.
"Is it possible that I have counted correctly, Anne!" exclaimed Grace to her friend, who was helping to sort small silver into various piles.
"I don't know," said Anne, "it looks like a lot of money. How much does it all come to?"
"Roughly speaking, nearly five hundred dollars. Just think of that."
"Splendid!" cried Anne, clasping her hands joyfully. "But what shall we put it in?"
"I shall put it in this iron box of father's. You see, it has a combination lock and he loaned it to me to-night just for this purpose. As soon as the rest of the money is in I'll lock it and he will take charge of it. Will you go and find him?"
Anne departed and Grace began to deposit the money in the box, smiling to herself at the success of their undertaking.
The few remaining people who were now taking leave of each other had concentrated in one spot. There was a loud buzz of conversation and laughter, when suddenly, without a moment's warning, the electric lights went out. The gasoline torches had burned down by now and the place was in utter darkness.
Somewhere in the hall there was a cry, the sound of scuffling and then absolute silence.
Many of the men began to strike matches and peer into the darkness, and at last David groped his way over to a corner of the hall where he remembered he had seen the switch. As he felt for the electric button his hand encountered another hand, that grasped his with an iron grip, gave his wrist a vicious twist, pushed him violently away and was gone. David gave an involuntary cry of pain as he felt for the switch again. In another moment he had found it and the hall was again flooded with light. Instantly he looked about for the vicious person who had twisted his wrist, but he was alone in that part of the hall.
The excitements of that evening, however, were not yet at an end. People began running toward the last booth. There were cries and exclamations, and David, who had followed quickly after them, arrived there just in time to meet Mr. Harlowe carrying the limp figure of his daughter Grace in his arms. He deposited her on four chairs placed in a row, a bottle of smelling salts was put to her nose, while Hippy and Reddy ran for water.
Grace opened her eyes almost immediately and sat up.
"I'm not hurt," she said. "I was only stunned. Some one hit me on the head from behind, but my cap softened the blow. They were trying to get the box of money. Oh, is it gone?" she cried anxiously.
David and Tom examined the booth.
The money was gone.
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