Three Young Knights | Page 6

shoulder to the boys. "He no
understand. You have to talk pigeon English to him. See how he
catches on to what I said?"
The old face had grown less dull and weary. A slow light seemed to
illumine it. As the little stream of pennies dripped into the tremulous,
wrinkled old hand, it suddenly flashed into a smile. Then a stream of
strange words issued from the old man's lips. They tripped over each
other and made weird, indistinguishable combinations of sound, but the
boys translated them by the light of that smile. How pleased the old
fellow was! How he fingered over the pennies exultantly!
"Tell the whole story, old man," Old Tilly said quietly as they mounted
their wheels and glided off. "It looks like a reg'lar novel!"
"Yes, hurry up, can't you!" impatiently Jot urged. "Begin at the
beginning, and go clear through to the end."
"You've helped folks. Why shouldn't I? There weren't any old ladies
with empty water pails, or any cows in corn lots, so I had to take up
with the poor old organ-grinder. That's all."
"All!" scoffed Jot, "Go on with the rest of it, Kent Eddy!"
"Isn't any 'rest,'" grunted Kent, "unless you count the organ-grinder; he
had some-looked as if he'd rested. Well, sir"--Kent suddenly woke

up--"but without any fooling, you ought to have seen that old chap
when I came on him. He was all used up--heat, you know. There was a
creek, back a ways, and the water kind of pulled him up. He couldn't
talk English, but he offered me a black two-cent piece for pay. He
turned his pocket out to find it. That set me to thinking I'd make him a
little richer."
"Of course! Go on!" hurried Jot.
"Isn't any 'on.'"
"There's honor," Old Tilly cried softly. "I say that was splendid, Kentie!
I like that!"
Kent flushed uneasily. Old Tilly's face looked like father's when he said
his rare, hearty words of commendation.
"Well, the organ-grinder likes it, too!" Kent laughed. "Now he can have
something to eat. Poor old fellow! He couldn't have gone through all
those dooryards to save his life! He was 'most sunstruck. I told a
motherly old lady about him, at one of the houses, and she's going to be
on the lookout for him, and give him a snack of meat and bread."
They went on for half a mile quite silently. Then, without warning. Jot
suddenly began to laugh. He tumbled off his bicycle and collapsed in a
feeble heap.
"Don't anybody st-op me !" he cried. "It's dangerous! I'm having one o'
my 'attacks'!"
The others joined in, and, for a little, the woods rang with boyish mirth.
"It was rich!" stammered Jot. "Passing the hat round capped it!"
"It was great!" laughed Old Tilly. "You're an actor, Kentie!"
"Me! What are you?"
"Well, I can't grind a hand-organ and pass round the hat like that!"

"I could!" Jot cried, suddenly sobering down and going through the
motions of turning a crank with airy ease. "It's 'most too easy for me!"
The fun lasted until night. It was Saturday, and they rode until sunset
without further stops.
"We'll rest awhile and then go on by moonlight," Old Tilly said. "It will
be jolly and cool then. Besides, we don't want to be on the road
to-morrow. I promised mother I'd see that you all kept Sunday."
"And go to church ?" Jot said.
"Yes, and go to church, it there's one to go to anywhere," Old Tilly
rejoined quietly. "I told mother I'd see that you fellows went to church
quiet and nice, if possible. She put in the extra collars and neckties on
purpose."
A long rest, with a hearty lunch, and then they were off again in the
clear moonlight. It was splendid. The trees, the road, the pale, ghostly
houses--everything had a weird, charmed aspect. They might have been
riding through fairyland. It was growing late, they knew, and at last
they stopped, out of sheer weariness.
A great, square bulk loomed faintly before them in the waning
moonlight. It might be a house--might be a mountain! Jot spurted on
ahead to reconnoiter.
"House!" he shouted back. "Doors open--all quiet--guess it's on a picnic
ground. I felt a stair that seemed to lead up to a balcony or something."
"Well, we're sleepy enough. We'll take anything we can get!" yawned
Kent.
"Come on, then."
And, riding into what seemed a yard, they found a good place for their
wheels under some bushes. The moon was too low to give them any
light, but the boys found the doorway to the big building and went up

the stairs, guided by their hands along the narrow passageway. They
could only discern a queer little enclosure, topped