For when the lads and lassies (for the girls were invited) filed into the hall, there, in a place of honor on a platform, was the Italian organist and his pet simian.
“Oh, but we can’t dance to that doleful music!” objected Nina Farnsworth as she saw what some of the girls called the “orchestra.”
“Don’t worry!” laughed Blanche Richmond, “Bob has the jazz band from Cardiff over—talk about music—my feet are aching to begin!”
Bob had his own special object in hiring Pietro to come to the party with Jacko, and making dance music wasn’t it. In due time it shall be made known to you.
And, knowing that his young friends liked to dance as much as he did himself, Bob had provided the wherewithal, so to speak. Cardiff—the city where the “elephant man” had engaged the attention of the chief and the young detective that rainy night—Cardiff had an orchestra of young men, noted for their jazz ability—that is if you grant it takes any ability to play jazz music. And this Bob had engaged.
It was the custom for members of the Boys’ Athletic Club to take turns giving little affairs, such as dances and parties, so it was not unusual that Bob should do so.
He had been a little diffident about approaching Pietro on the matter, but he had put it in such a way that the Italian had consented after a little thought, and a quick, shrewd look into Bob’s face.
“You no maka bad tricks with Jacko?” he asked.
“Of course not!” cried Bob. “You and the monkey will be treated perfectly fair. It’s just that I want a little something different at my party—something to make the boys and girls laugh. The monkey will do that.”
“Oh, sure! Jacko—he do many tricks. I show you!”