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Authors: Walter R. Brooks
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to go on after they had finished the first verse.
CHAPTER 8
Nothing happened that night. Freginald didnât sleep very well. He was hungry and worried for fear that Mr. Boomschmidt wouldnât be able to rescue them. All night long there was stir and movement in and around the houseâanimals coming and going, and heavy things being pushed up to barricade the doors. But as the windows began to glimmer with the coming dawn, Leo raised his head.
âListen,â he said.
From far away came a faint regular sound, thump, thump, thump-thump-thump. Steadily it came always a little louder.
âThe drum!â exclaimed Freginald.
âTheyâre on the march,â said Leo exultantly. âTheyâre coming. Boy, what a scrap thereâs going to be! I wish we could be in it. But I donât see how we can get past those guards.â
They went to the northern window and looked out. But there was nothing to see. Below them the barnyard lay empty and misty in the dawn, and beyond, the wall of trees was motionless in the windless air. No sound came up from the house.
But as the light grew, the drum-taps grew louder. Birds were fluttering about excitedly on the roof and in the trees. But wherever the robbers were waiting, they were keeping very quiet. Freginald went to the stairway and looked down, but the guards were on duty. He went back to the window. Now he could hear the tramp and scuffle of marching feet. Leo couldnât sit still. âWhere are they?â he said. âI wish I could see them. They must be at the end of the road now.â
A bugle blew two clear notes and the drum stopped. For a few minutes nothing happened. Then the horse that had challenged them yesterday came pushing through the bushes, and behind him Bill Wonks, mounted on Mr. Huber and carrying a white flag on the end of a stick.
âBy George!â said Leo, âthatâs the chief for you! He certainly does things with a dash. Sending out a flag of truce for a parley.â
Bill was indeed a warlike figure sitting his horse in the misty early sunlight. He wore a tall fur cap and a tight, long-skirted Cossack coat. Freginald recognized the costume. It was one that Mr. Blodgett, the ring-master, wore when he and Mademoiselle Rose did feats of horsemanship in the show.
Presently the bull came out of somewhere back of the house and he and Bill talked together. They were too far away for the prisoners to hear what they said. But after a few minutes the bull seemed to get angry. He pawed the earth and shook his horns, and Bill, after arguing for a little longer, saluted and rode back into the thicket. The bull turned and trotted off heavily round the corner of the house.
For a little while there was silence. The mist in the barnyard thinned and the sunlight became warmer. And then all at once things began to happen. Behind the trees the bugle blew, there was a roll from the snare drums which ended in a double boom from the bass drum, and then, with a blare of brass, the band crashed into the marching song that Freginald had made up for them. The drum boomed, there was a crackling and smashing of branches, and then the words of the song, roared out by half a hundred voices, filled the morning.
Red and gold wagons are coming down the street
With a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, boom, boom, boom;
With shouting and music and tramp of marching feet
And a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, boom, boom, boom.
Hear the squeal of the cornets and the rattle of the snares;
The fifes scream shrilly and the trombone blares,
And here come the lions and the tigers and the bears,
With a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, BOOM!
Here come the caribou and kangaroos and camels,
The koodoos, zebus, zebras, and yaks,
The hippopotamuses and the rhinoceroses
And the big gray elephants with houses on their backs.
Boomâbe quick! Buy a ticket at the wicket.
Boomâget your pink lemonade. Get your gum.
Boomâget your peanuts, popcorn,
CHAPTER 8
Nothing happened that night. Freginald didnât sleep very well. He was hungry and worried for fear that Mr. Boomschmidt wouldnât be able to rescue them. All night long there was stir and movement in and around the houseâanimals coming and going, and heavy things being pushed up to barricade the doors. But as the windows began to glimmer with the coming dawn, Leo raised his head.
âListen,â he said.
From far away came a faint regular sound, thump, thump, thump-thump-thump. Steadily it came always a little louder.
âThe drum!â exclaimed Freginald.
âTheyâre on the march,â said Leo exultantly. âTheyâre coming. Boy, what a scrap thereâs going to be! I wish we could be in it. But I donât see how we can get past those guards.â
They went to the northern window and looked out. But there was nothing to see. Below them the barnyard lay empty and misty in the dawn, and beyond, the wall of trees was motionless in the windless air. No sound came up from the house.
But as the light grew, the drum-taps grew louder. Birds were fluttering about excitedly on the roof and in the trees. But wherever the robbers were waiting, they were keeping very quiet. Freginald went to the stairway and looked down, but the guards were on duty. He went back to the window. Now he could hear the tramp and scuffle of marching feet. Leo couldnât sit still. âWhere are they?â he said. âI wish I could see them. They must be at the end of the road now.â
A bugle blew two clear notes and the drum stopped. For a few minutes nothing happened. Then the horse that had challenged them yesterday came pushing through the bushes, and behind him Bill Wonks, mounted on Mr. Huber and carrying a white flag on the end of a stick.
âBy George!â said Leo, âthatâs the chief for you! He certainly does things with a dash. Sending out a flag of truce for a parley.â
Bill was indeed a warlike figure sitting his horse in the misty early sunlight. He wore a tall fur cap and a tight, long-skirted Cossack coat. Freginald recognized the costume. It was one that Mr. Blodgett, the ring-master, wore when he and Mademoiselle Rose did feats of horsemanship in the show.
Presently the bull came out of somewhere back of the house and he and Bill talked together. They were too far away for the prisoners to hear what they said. But after a few minutes the bull seemed to get angry. He pawed the earth and shook his horns, and Bill, after arguing for a little longer, saluted and rode back into the thicket. The bull turned and trotted off heavily round the corner of the house.
For a little while there was silence. The mist in the barnyard thinned and the sunlight became warmer. And then all at once things began to happen. Behind the trees the bugle blew, there was a roll from the snare drums which ended in a double boom from the bass drum, and then, with a blare of brass, the band crashed into the marching song that Freginald had made up for them. The drum boomed, there was a crackling and smashing of branches, and then the words of the song, roared out by half a hundred voices, filled the morning.
Red and gold wagons are coming down the street
With a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, boom, boom, boom;
With shouting and music and tramp of marching feet
And a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, boom, boom, boom.
Hear the squeal of the cornets and the rattle of the snares;
The fifes scream shrilly and the trombone blares,
And here come the lions and the tigers and the bears,
With a Boomschmidt, Boomschmidt, BOOM!
Here come the caribou and kangaroos and camels,
The koodoos, zebus, zebras, and yaks,
The hippopotamuses and the rhinoceroses
And the big gray elephants with houses on their backs.
Boomâbe quick! Buy a ticket at the wicket.
Boomâget your pink lemonade. Get your gum.
Boomâget your peanuts, popcorn,
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