They found David sitting up in his berth, working crossword puzzles,
Mrs. Bybee sitting on the edge of his bed to jot down the words as he
gave them to her.
“Reckon you won’t need the old lady now that the young ’un’s come to
hold your hand and make a fuss over you,” Mrs. Bybee grumbled jealously.
“What’s that? What’s that?” Winfield Bybee, who had come over from the
carnival grounds in a service car, demanded from the doorway. “Been
flirting with my wife, young man? Reckon I’ll have to put the gloves on
with you when that crippled wing of yours is O. K. Well, Sally, old Pop
has done you another good turn.”
Sally paled and reached instinctively for David’s left hand. “Oh! You
mean—Mrs. Barr, the lady who was talking to you?”
“Nothing else but!” Bybee nodded, smiling at her. “She tried to make me
admit you was Sally Ford and I acted innocent as a new-born lamb. Told
her you’d been with us since we left New York.”
“Why is she so interested in Sally, Mr. Bybee?” David asked quietly.
“She ’lowed a carnival wasn’t no place for a pure young girl,” Bybee
chuckled. “She said they was anxious over at the orphanage to get Sally
back, away from her life of sin, and that pers’n’ly she took a powerful
interest in unfortunate girls and was determined to see Sally safe back
in the Home if ‘Princess Lalla’ _was_ Sally Ford. I lied like a
gentleman for you, child. Told her she was a nice little dame and all
that, but clear off her base in this instance. Reckon I put it across
all right, for she shut up and beat it pretty soon.”
“I think she’s wonderful,” Sally surprised them all by speaking up
almost sharply. “She’s just trying to be kind. She doesn’t know how
awful an orphans’ home can be.”
“Come along, Mother. Let’s give these two kids a chance. But you mustn’t
stay long, Sally. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and you oughta be enough of a
trouper by now to know what that means. We head South Saturday night,
riding all day Sunday.”
“Out of the state?” Sally and David cried in unison.
“Yep. Out of the state. You kids’ll be safe then. The police ain’t going
to bother about extradition for a couple of juvenile delinquents. So
long, Dave boy. Don’t let this little Jane keep you awake too late.”
“I’ll leave in fifteen minutes,” Sally promised joyfully.
And she kept her promise. Her lips were smiling tenderly, secretly, at
the memory of David’s good-night kiss, when she left the car and began
to look about for someone to walk back to the carnival grounds with her,
for she was to sleep in the dress tent that night, the storm-soaked
mattresses having dried in the sun all day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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