Preparations were completed and the day for the presentation of the greatest show on earth had arrived. It was crisply cool, but clear and sunshiny, as the last Saturday in beloved October should be; and not too cold to sit still and witness an out-of-doors performance. Tickets had sold with such gratifying readiness that a second edition had been necessary, and the Committee on Seating Arrangements was nearly in despair over providing enough seats.
“It’s no use,” declared Bottomless Pitt, “we’ve done the best we could and half of them will still have to stand. It’ll be a case of ‘first come, first served.’”
Sahwah and Hinpoha, their arms filled with bundles of “props,” which they had spent the morning in collecting, sank wearily down at a table in the “Neapolitan” soda dispensary and ordered their favorite sundaes. “Now, are you perfectly sure we have everything?” asked Hinpoha, between spoonfuls.
“There’s the Better Baby’s rattle,” recounted Sahwah, identifying her parcels by feeling of them, “the Magician’s natural hair a foot long, the china eggs he finds in the lady’s handbag, the bareback rider’s spangles, and—O Hinpoha!” she cried in dismay, dropping her spoon on the tile floor with a great clatter, “we forgot the red, white and blue cockade for Sandhelo. I’ll have to go back to Nelson’s and get it. Dear me, it’s eleven o’clock now and we still have to go out home and dress. And the marshmallows have to be bought yet; that’s another thing I promised Nyoda I’d see about. Won’t you please get them, Hinpoha, while I run up to Nelson’s? There’s a dear. Get them at Raymond’s—theirs are the freshest; and then you had better go right on home without waiting for me. It will take me a little longer, but I’ll hurry as fast as I can. And please tell Nyoda that I didn’t forget the marshmallows this time; I just turned the responsibility over to you.” And Sahwah gathered up her bundles and retraced her steps toward the big up-town store, while Hinpoha took her way to Raymond’s. Five pounds of marshmallows make a pretty big box, and Hinpoha had several other parcels to carry. She had them all laid out on the counter with an eye to tying some of them together to facilitate transportation when a voice suddenly called out: “Dorothy! Dorothy Bradford!” She turned and saw Miss Parker, one of the teachers at Washington High, at the other end of the counter. “Come and meet my cousin,” said Miss Parker, and brought forward a young girl she had with her. “This is Katherine Adams,” said Miss Parker. “Katherine, I would like you to meet one of my pupils, Dorothy Bradford.”
Hinpoha acknowledged the introduction cordially, but it was all she could do to suppress a smile at Katherine’s appearance. She was an extremely tall, lanky girl, narrow chested and stoop shouldered, with scanty straw-colored hair drawn into a tight knot at the back of her neck, and pale, near-sighted eyes peering through glasses. She wore a long drab-colored coat, cut as severely plain as a man’s, and a narrow-brimmed felt sailor hat. She wore no gloves and her hands were large and bony. Her shoes—Hinpoha looked twice in her astonishment to make sure—yes, there was no mistake, the shoes she had on were not mates! One was a cloth-top button and the other a heavy laced walking boot. Miss Parker followed Hinpoha’s surprised glance and looked distressed. But Katherine was not at all disconcerted when she discovered the discrepancy in her footgear.
“That’s what you get for interrupting me in the middle of my dressing,” she said coolly. “Now, I’ve forgotten which pair I intended to wear.” She had an odd, husky voice, that made everything she said sound funny.
Miss Parker seemed rather anxious that her cousin should make a good impression on Hinpoha. Katherine was from Spencer, Arkansas, she explained, and had gone as far in school as she could out there and had now come east to stay with her cousin and take the last year in high school. Hinpoha promised to introduce her around to the girls in the class, with her eyes on the clock all the while and her mind on the performance she should be helping to prepare that minute instead of standing there talking.
“Won’t you come to our circus this afternoon?” she said politely, fishing among the small “props” in her handbag. “Here’s a ticket. It’s going to be in the big field at the corner of May and ——th streets. Come into the barn if you come and I’ll introduce you to some of my friends.”
Miss Parker and her caricature of a cousin finally departed, and Hinpoha hastily gathered up her bundles. Something about the package of marshmallows struck her as unfamiliar, and she examined it in consternation. It certainly was not her package, though like it in shape. Somebody had taken hers by mistake. She looked around the store and was just in time to see her box being carried out the front door under the arm of a woman. Hinpoha gathered her packages into her arms hit and miss and rushed after her. But impeded as she was she got stuck in the revolving door and was delayed a full minute before she escaped to the sidewalk. She was just in time to see the object of her pursuit board a car at the corner. Before Hinpoha could reach the corner the car had started. Hinpoha stamped her foot with vexation, mostly directed toward Miss Parker and her freak cousin for taking her attention away from her belongings. Then she considered. The car the woman had boarded must make a loop and come out a block below and it would be possible to catch it there. Hinpoha puffed along the sidewalk at a great rate, worming her way through the Saturday noon crowds and colliding with people right and left. She reached the corner just as the car did and made a mad dash over the pavement, dodging in among wagons and automobiles at dire peril of life and limb. She scrambled aboard and landed sprawling on the back platform, while her bundles scattered over the floor in every direction. Breathless and embarrassed, she gathered them up and entered the car just in time to see the lady carrying her box of marshmallows get out of the front door. Hinpoha made a wild dash for the rear exit, but the door was closed and the car already in motion. She rang the bell frantically, at the same time following the woman with her eyes to see in which direction she went. The car finally released her two blocks up street, and then began the mad chase back again. Poor Hinpoha was never built for speed; her breath gave out and she developed an agonizing pain in her side. Her bundles weighed her down and her hat flopped into her eyes. Chugging along thus she ran smartly into someone and again her packages covered the sidewalk.
“Oh, excuse me!” she gasped, struggling to get her hat back on her head. “I couldn’t see where I was going. Why, Captain——” For it was none other than he with whom she had collided.